My Identity
by Dojh167
Summary: Andromeda Black. The blood traitor. The mudblood's wife. Hated and loved by so many people. But who was she really? The truth: They never really knew. The tragedy: Neither did she.
1. My Mythos

_A/N: Originally posted on HPFF on 11/23/08. Written for NaNoWriMo 2007._

 **Chapter One: My Mythos**

* * *

Andromeda.

It is a strange name, one that bites the tongue with its peculiar foreign taste, a taste that it does not lose with all the years of familiarity that may pass. It holds a thousand implications and possibilities, only making it more impossible to pinpoint its true meaning.

The name has a distant and unfamiliar sound to it, one that would make you look up and frown upon hearing it, wondering what kind of girl could belong to such a name. But then you shake your head in indifference and look away, assuming that this mysterious girl and whatever significance her name implies will remain a mystery, that it could never make any difference in your unconnected life. And as you do so you do not notice as she walks serenely by, her dark blanket of hair following slowly after her.

I have made it my business to find out what this most perplexing of names truly means. I have pursued strands of evidence with stalwart determination, but they always seem to cross and tangle themselves until I am lost in an endless knot which I cannot untangle or decipher. One meaning leads inevitably into another, which is faded and replaced by a third, only to lead in time to others with no relevance at all.

Abandoning my failed attempts to trace the etymology, I turn to history. One can find solace in history for its firm foundation of fact. But even this cannot hold true for such a name, which is entwined in myth and speculation, each tale varying greatly from the next, leaving few concrete details to satisfy me.

What I can gather are the remaining fragments of the original story, each scattered over countless retellings of the same tale and slowly lost to time. Andromeda, it is told, was a princess, the prize of her people. She was such a treasure that her mother boasted that she was more beautiful than the sea-dwelling children of the very gods. Out of anger, the god of the sea struck their land, bringing havoc and destruction, and leaving the maiden herself to be devoured by a most heinous beast. But, just in time, she is rescued by an unexpected young hero. He is not the man who she had loved and pledged to marry, but he was the one who saved her, and he was the one who won her in marriage, and they lived long and happily until the end of their days.

Now I am no fool, and I am not one to create ridiculous fantasies for myself just so that I can live in a world of deluded make-believe. I do not believe in happily ever afters, and I have long since accepted that no such ending can be expected for my own story. And yet I hold the tale dear, and recite it to myself on those cold dismal nights when I have nothing else to keep me going. Why is it that I allow myself to give into fantasy in these dark moments, imagining myself to live the life of this fabled princess? Why is it that her strange and yet beautiful name holds such power over me? Why is it that this story brings tears of both hope and despair to my clouded eyes?

Because I am her. I am Andromeda. I may not be a princess, I may not be beautiful, and I may not be prized. But I am Andromeda. An Andromeda of a different kind, a different species. I am Andromeda Black, and I have never known the world of this tale that I tell myself so often.

I try to find parallels, to show how closely my life and hers truly are intertwined and how I too may one day escape my monsters and live happily until the end of my days. But I know this cannot be, and it never will.

For I am no princess of a tale or myth. I am simply Andromeda, the second of the Black sisters – always in search of my true self, but constantly aware that, whether I look in a book of stories or a mirror, it is nowhere to be found.


	2. My Mysteries

**Chapter Two: My Mysteries**

* * *

I grew up being told that I was a daughter of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. I never quite understood what this meant, but I knew that it must be important. The one thing I did know was that it meant that I was special, somehow secretly better than everybody else. I was always sure that this was a good thing, but I never quite knew what I was supposed to do with this knowledge.

But if it means that my family and I are different from everybody else, then it is certainly true. My childhood was not a particularly pleasant one, nor was my family a particularly loving one. But it was all that I knew, and I never thought to question it.

I grew up in a large house, one of the many that had belonged to the family of Black for centuries. It was very ostentatious and grand, but at the same time overwhelmingly cold and dark. It was like always being in a dark, haunted museum at nighttime, and it made me feel so much like that that I, still a very young girl, would wander its halls as a lost child in a strange place, looking for some small form of comfort.

If there was ever anything that I wanted or needed, my parents were not the ones to turn to. They were always distant at best, and sometimes they would do things, scary things, that made me wish I could disappear.

My mother was not the maternal sort at all, and nothing that I ever did could catch her attention. At times she would dote upon or admire my sisters, but I, the middle child, never seemed worthy of note. Most often she paid no attention to any of us at all– she would lock herself away for long periods of time, and we never knew if she would come out again. I did not ever discover what haunted her and caused her to torture herself so, but even then I had learned enough about life as a Black to know to keep out of the way and not ask questions.

My father, on the other hand, was always present. He was a loud man with a very thin temper, and was known to lose himself and give into impulsive fits of violence in which my sisters and I could became the victims. He was quite a bit older than my mother. Of course, my parents were not the types to talk of their pasts, but they made the mistake of underestimating the deductive skills of their daughter. And of not keeping all of their documents behind locked doors. I have discovered that, although my father was of age, it appears that his our mother was only thirteen years old when she had his first daughter and seventeen when the third arrived. In fact, it looks to me as if the moment she was old enough to consider having children, he decided that it was a good time to stop. What's more, I have for some time suspected that, from an out of place tone or a significant glance, that the youngest of my sisters may not have actually come from him at all. Though of course, I do not dare mention this suspicion to anybody.

With such unpredictable parents, my sisters and I were left more or less to our own devices. Of course, we had the rest of the household keeping their eyes us, but we nevertheless had a great deal of freedom to do as we pleased.

If this suited any of us, it was Bellatrix. She was my older sister by two years and my constant role model. She was the most independent person that I had ever known, and she was absolutely fascinating to be around.

She was the kind of girl who always wanted to know more about everything. As a child she would… experiment. She would try anything and everything, hungry for a more complete knowledge of her surroundings. In her mind the only way to become superior to anything (be it a person, an animal, or even an object) was to understand it completely. She would do whatever it took to accomplish this, and accomplish it she would. She learned a great deal, though she would sometimes push the boundaries a little too far, even when she knew the dangers of the consequences.

When it seemed that there was nothing more for her to study and understand, she turned to deeper psychological issues. She briefly investigated many different aspects of human emotions and the like, but the one thing that fascinated her above all else was the deepest issue of all: why people suffered.

She pursued this for years, and for the first time she began to frighten me. Sometimes when she was researching I found an alarming glow radiating from her eyes that I had never seen before. I didn't want to lose her, but when I saw that startling look in her eyes I could feel that she was drawing further and further away from me all of the time.

It seemed that she finally found her answer to the question that she had been pursuing for so long, and I thought that it would at last stop. But it didn't end there.

At long last she seemed to deduce that people were the cause of their own suffering, and that whatever they suffered was a result of their own actions. She also acquired a very strong, perhaps somewhat perverse, sense of justice. I think that she saw it as her personal responsibility to see that anybody who did wrong received their just punishment.

She started out with small things. She would find any animal. Sometimes it was a dog off the street or a rat, or even our house elf. She would watch them for hours like a silent predator. No matter how long it took she would stay there until they committed some small act of misbehavior. Then, quite simply, she would hurt them. She would cause them the suffering that they had evidently brought upon themselves, and it gave her the greatest satisfaction to hear the whimpers of the animal as they tried to escape from her grasp.

She loved this sense of power that she was able to establish for herself, and took great pride in telling herself that she was doing what must be done, not allowing any evil deed to go unpunished.

But it did not stop there. Just as she had run out of things to investigate in her experiments, she now began to run out of victims to punish, and the thrill of hurting a small animal was not enough for her any more.

She never dared lay a finger on my sister and I or any other Wizarding children whose parents could get her into trouble. Instead, she would creep out of the house and find the muggle children playing on the street who we had been strictly forbidden to see, and draw them away to become her victims, just as she had done to the small and helpless animals she had previously delighted in torturing

As the years went on she was always somehow able to find new victims, who she punished most severely for any misconduct that she could find in them. In time her sense of wrong in others broadened, and it was not long before she found it justifiable to punish her victims whenever they so much as disagreed with her or tried to disobey.

I was not blind as this disturbing wave of corruption began to wash over her, and I watched in horror as my sister who I looked up to so much became quite something else. I was terrified and wanted my Bella back. She had been the best role model I ever had, and it hurt me to see her go like this.

Sometimes when I was so taken over by fear for the acts of my sister, she would come to me with the same sense of power and firm confidence that she had gained through all of this, which I came to both admire and fear.

I swear to you, she never laid a finger on me. But she would make me feel guilty. She called me a coward and a weakling and a disgrace. She told me I shouldn't be afraid of power. She told me that what she had was the best possible gift a person could have. She would tell me many things, and in no time at all would have me convinced that it was me who was in the wrong, not her.

After these episodes she regained my wavering trust for a short period, and I would again look up to her. As wrong as I know it is, I think that a part of me secretly wanted to feel the same taste of power that she did. I do not believe that I ever did, for I would always hold myself back just enough to keep out of any real danger. I wanted to be like her and make her proud, but something inside of me seemed to know that it was not the right path, and I always managed to pull myself out of anything that could lead me to sink to the same depths as her. My lifelong balance of toeing the line and being torn between the worst of both sides, however, may have been just as bad.

My younger sister, Narcissa, was a different story altogether. I have already expressed my suspicion that she is not the true daughter of our father, Cygnus, and yet even that does not quite agree with with his attitude towards her. To put it bluntly, he just about worshiped the girl, showering her with every luxury that a person could wish for. And it was us, his doubtlessly legitimate daughters, who he rarely bothered to waste his attentions on.

My feeling for the matter stops there. I do not feel any envy towards my younger sister, and had no desire at all to take her place. I am merely astonished that my father loved this girl who may well not even be of his own blood more than his actual daughters. But then again, why should it come as such a surprise? Anybody who saw young Narcissa could easily think that she was at very least some kind of apparition of a goddess on earth.

And yes, she truly was beautiful. To tell the truth, I have never seen anything quite like her. She was always the jewel of the family, and even our mother would dote upon her every now and again.

Not only was she the most beautiful, but she was also the youngest daughter of the house, and therefore was constantly under our watch. I think we must all have been afraid to lose her, because we certainly protected her with the strength and fear of those aware that their treasure could be snatched away at any moment.

And it all suited her just fine. She would sit regal in a little gown and run her fingers through her long, beautiful sheet of hair with a glitter in her eyes that enchanted everybody so effortlessly.

But she was not just a doll as so many people liked to think. Bellatrix and I may have been the only ones who ever knew what lay behind her façade of beauty and charm. It was no monster or beast like the one that I was beginning to see emerge behind my older sister's eyes, and yet something that may well be more devouring. It was fear. She had none of the powerful confidence of our sister, and instead lived a life of constant fear of being severely wounded by the unprotected outside world, be it emotionally or physically.

We never wanted anybody to see our sister's weakness. If they did then it could only be used against her. We couldn't bear to see her hurt, and we knew that she would not be able to protect herself. Luckily, she had her entire family there to faithfully protect her, her parents because they so adored her and her sisters because they knew what a danger the world was.

Narcissa was never able to break free of her fear, and it became more and more consuming as she grew older. She disconnected herself from everybody, even us. She was so afraid of being hurt that she would contentedly confine her entire existence to sitting at her window seat, staring down at the world safely through her own beautiful reflection.

And what of me, the second black daughter, with that name of names, Andromeda? Well, I suppose that is the true mystery. My story is really one of a lost girl in search of an identity. Sometimes I do not know if I will ever find it. Sometimes I wonder if it is even worth the search. But I do know that without it, I am nothing.

How does one go about finding an identity? It is an interesting question. I am constantly surrounded by people who are all so certain of whom they are. My parents are both too old to change and obviously comfortable in their station in life. My sisters both have such strongly set characteristics and personalities that I feel more lost between them.

And so I, the middle child, am a mystery to myself. Stuck between the two extremely different personalities and characters of my sisters, I am lost. I know not where to turn. I lose track of who and what I am. I lose track of the world around me, and the most fundamental truths are blurred. What is good? What is evil? What about right and wrong? Is there even any distinction at all, or do they simply cease to exist, lost in life's greater puzzle?

These are the mysteries of my life. Other children or women may not have any problem knowing who they are, what they are meant to do, or even the all consuming matter of good versus evil.

But these are the questions that have shaped my life.


	3. My Changes

**Chapter Three: My Changes**

* * *

I still remember the day that my Hogwarts acceptance letter arrived.

It immediately struck me as strange to see an owl approaching our house that morning. Receiving mail was a bit of an abnormality in our secluded household. We had no interest in the outside world, wizard or muggle. Our parents had no friends or correspondents to speak of. Even during the school months, Bellatrix never sent letters home to us. So what was a slightly tattered looking brown owl doing approaching our kitchen window as Narcissa and I sat quietly eating our breakfast?

I stared blankly as the owl flew through the window and landed amidst our porridge breakfast, scraping his talons against the wood of the table as he pulled himself to a stop. My sister and I sat staring at it for a moment before I reached out an uncertain arm and pulled the envelope away from the owl.

"What is it?" Narcissa asked hesitantly.

"It… it's for me." I said, not even quite sure of myself as I tried to refocus my eyes and see it properly. But no, it was most definitely my name and address written upon the rough surface of the envelope.

My sister said nothing, but I was fully aware that she was watching me in silent expectance, waiting for me to open the letter. Feeling her anxious eyes upon me, I hastily slid my fingers beneath the fold of the envelope, slitting it open.

I must have instantly become totally immersed in the letter, because I wasn't aware of another thing. Not the kitchen, not Narcissa, not the beat of my heart or the pulse of my thoughts.

All the while I sat there, paper clutched in hand as tightly as if I were holding onto life itself, and somehow something seemed to click into place. I had always known that Hogwarts awaited me and that this day would come, but I never truly appreciated just what that meant until this very moment.

This was it. This was my chance. Going to Hogwarts would change everything. My whole life, my existence, my self. I could forget my sordid existence in this house and finally find myself. I knew it. If there was anywhere in the world where my identity lay hidden, waiting to be discovered, it was at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

I couldn't say if I sat frozen there for ten minutes or ten days. I was so immersed that it might as well have been an entire decade. I was completely struck dumb by the thing that I didn't even know I wanted most suddenly being offered to me, and here in ink and parchment held in my very own hand.

I was going to be free. But not only free from this life, but free to be me. I was going to discover my identity at long last.

It was a ridiculous notion, especially for a child so young, and yet for me at the time it was clear that it was the only thing that mattered in the whole wide world.

For the next couple of weeks I think that I must have been stuck in some sort of buoyant trance. I walked throughout the house without truly being there, and I daydreamed for hours about what my new life would be like. It was not that I necessarily objected to my life as it was. It was all that I had ever known, and I accept it. But a part of me seemed to know that there was something more out there, just waiting to be discovered. And if there was more, then certainly that was where I could discover my hidden self that evaded me in these surroundings?

My obsession with finding this so-called identity quickly grew, and it was all that I could wish for. I didn't stop to wonder what would happen once I discovered it, or what I expected to change so dramatically. What I did know was that it is the deepest desire I have ever harbored, and it almost became my own secret dark passion that burned in me, like a roaring and radiant flame that kept me going.

This was it. I didn't entirely know what to expect, what was going to happen, what I was waiting for. All that I knew was that it was coming, and the mystery of it all only made it more exciting.

But I had nobody to confide my secret passion in. My mother was distant at best and my father couldn't care less. Bellatrix would consider such a display of enthusiasm shameful, and mentioning it to Narcissa would only set her into a fit of subdued anxiety for the time when she too would be expected to leave her sheltered home and head off to school utterly vulnerable and unprotected.

So I kept to myself, doing my best not to let show any hint of how much the prospect of this great adventure thrilled me. But when I was alone I would allow myself to imagine being there, sitting in class, laughing with the people who would surely be the my best of friends, and undertaking all that the world presented to me. Through all of this there was a different me. She walked in my body and spoke in my voice, but she had a gleam in her eyes and a confidence and thrill for life that had never been mine. She was the girl on the other side of the bridge, waiting to greet me halfway and ready to take everything over for me. She was my dream. She was the girl I was surely meant to be.

As the time approached and fantasy began to blend with reality I found it more and more difficult to suppress my eagerness. The only one who noticed was Bellatrix, but I think that she tried not to show it. There were times, however, when she didn't see me looking and I was able to catch a look of utmost disapproval upon her face as if I was already disgracing her and the family in some abominable way.

I know that she never would have dared, but sometimes I feared that she was going to punish me. Feeling her gaze, I was overwhelmed with the dread that she would take me into a dark room and punish me for my shameful display of behavior. But she never did. Instead she simply looked me over with every fiber of her face displaying disgusted disapproval and turned coldly away. And this, to a young girl who looked up to her sister more than anything, was the worst punishment of all.

Finally the time was so near that I could almost taste it. I was ready, and now all that remained was to buy my supplies and climb onto the train that would carry me off to my new life.

My parents had no interest in accompanying me to Diagon Alley, so it was with my older sister that I departed, ecstatic, from the house. My body and mind were both shaking with so much excitement at the prospect of leaving that I found it unnecessarily difficult to seize my handful of floo powder and hold it steadily in my palm.

Moments later, I felt myself lose contact with the fireplace around me and was being hurling across hundreds of miles in a blinding flurry of ash and darkness. I emerged from the fireplace of the Leaky Cauldron coughing badly and wiping soot from my robes in a poor attempt to mask how inexperienced I still felt; I had yet to gain the dignity and demeanor of my sister in this mode of magical travel.

I glanced around quickly and spotted Bellatrix already making way to exit the pub. I hurried to catch up with her and trailed along readily at her heels. She said nothing to me, but purposefully strode out of the back door as if to show everybody watching that she knew exactly what she was doing. My eyes eagerly drank in her every movement, attempting to mimic that same confidence and firmness in my own movements.

I saw her pull out a long wand from her pocket and tap a particular brick in the wall three times. This was a motion that I had witnessed dozens of times before, but now I held my breath. I watched with newborn amazement as the brick wall before me fused itself into an archway, revealing all of the magical wonder that was Diagon Alley.

I had been down this most famous of streets countless times in my young life and already knew each of the shopkeepers by name and I could identify any item displayed in a storefront window within an instant. But every time that I had previously been there I had only been a child on a leash, trailing obediently behind individuals of much greater import. But now I was free and could do whatever I pleased.

I was so lost in my own wonder that I almost lost sight of my sister as she slipped down the crowded street and had to hurry to catch up to her, "Hey Bella, wait up!" I had to call, my youthful voice ringing as I made an effort to squeeze through the flow of busy shoppers to reach her.

She did not slow down for me or turn to look back as I caught up with her, but instead kept walking, now with what seemed to be a very pronounced annoyance. I didn't want her to be mad at me, but I didn't know what I was supposed to do.

Not wanting to leave silence between the two of us, I began to talk anxiously. "Well this is fun isn't it? All of the people and excitement… It is starting to get cold though. I hope it rains – I do love rain. I bet the snow will be beautiful at Hogwarts, don't you think? I want to be the first to walk in it... I wonder if… Hey, what are you doing?"

I came to a halt as she began to turn a corner, and this time she did take heed of my confused voice. She paused for a moment and then turned back to face me; "If you are going to follow me, you had better not slow me down. And I wouldn't talk so much if I were you… You wouldn't want to draw attention," she said sleekly.

I did not respond, but stared down the side street that she had begun to enter. "You aren't supposed to go down there." I said quietly.

"I am free to do whatever I please, and nobody has the power to stop me. Now are you going to get out of my way, am I going to have to make you?"

Although Bellatrix had never hurt me, I knew what she was capable of and was not going to cross her, aware that at any point she might stop restraining herself against me.

I stepped backwards a few steps, but did not fall silent, "Mother and Father said that – "

"What Mother and Father don't know won't hurt them." She said, adding with a hollow laugh, "and I'm only following in their footsteps after all, aren't I?"

I had nothing to say. Indeed, our parents had more than dabbled in the dark arts and were frequent visitors to this most notorious of streets. However, they had never allowed us to accompany them on these excursions of theirs and it was the universally understood rule that we were never to stray from Diagon Alley onto this street (although Bellatrix seemed to interpret it that she was never to get caught).

My sister took advantage of my silence and said, "You go and do your shopping. I have people that I have to meet… And don't you dare breathe a word of this to another soul, you hear?"

I watched hopelessly as she began to turn her back on me, "But Bella…" I moaned, quietly begging her not to leave me on my own.

She fixed me with one last sharp look and said firmly, "Go."

And with that she was gone, leaving me quite alone, staring down the dark alleyway.

A part of me wanted to run down the alley after her and cling to her hand, not letting go. I wasn't ready to be alone, but I knew that nothing good would come of trying to interfere with her intentions.

I slumped off dolefully and sat myself down on a bench outside of a shop, falling to private thought. Why did she have to abandon me? I was sure that I had not done anything wrong, but she still always treated me as though I had.

If I was the girl of my musings I wouldn't have to be afraid of being alone. I would always have somebody else to turn to, and when they were all gone I still would not be afraid. I would be able to handle anything. Going to Hogwarts would bring about this change in me; make me the girl I was supposed to be. I would be strong and independent and invulnerable and nobody would ever be able to hurt me. The moment that I entered Hogwarts…

But that was so close. It was hardly more than a week away, and surely I should start to feel the changes at any moment. Why couldn't it happen now, as I was sitting here and thinking on this old bench? I knew it was possible. I knew it had to be. Maybe… it had already started after all, and I just didn't know it yet!

I took a deep breath. I stood up. I put one foot in front of the other. I felt no change, but forced myself to keep thinking of the confidence that I must display. I tried to imitate my sister's walk and I held my head high, as if I had something to show the world.

It was not real, but I just kept telling myself that I was important, that I held significance. I forced myself to walk confidently from store to store purchasing all of my required supplies. I may have fooled the passing shoppers. I may have even fooled the shopkeepers. But I did not fool myself.

It was not real. I did not feel changed on the inside. Despite what I displayed outwardly, I still felt weak and vulnerable. Was I missing something? Had I left out some key essential? Why was my transformation not coming to me?

At Hogwarts, I told myself. It would happen at Hogwarts…


	4. My Destiny

**Chapter Four: My Destiny**

* * *

After my trip to Diagon Alley something changed. My anticipation for my life at Hogwarts didn't lessen at all, it was merely joined with another and quite different type of emotion: fear.

My little excursion had instilled a deep and consuming doubt within me. I had gotten through the day alright and had managed to do all that needed to be done, but I felt wounded deep inside. I was still myself, my small and weak self, and the girl who I had so hoped would appear remained hidden. It was possible that the proper time simply had not come yet, but having faced disappointment once, I started to wonder what would happen if I was again let down.

Questions began to plague my mind. When would this girl, my mysterious other self, appear? Where was she supposed to come from? How would I know that she was there? What if she never came? What if she didn't exist? So many things that had seemed extremely straightforward before were beginning to lose their clarity.

But I still held on to hope. It was not too late yet, so I still dreamt and wished and fantasized all that I could dare. Even if things did not turn out as I liked I was still going some place new and exciting and better, wasn't I?

It was quite a mix of emotions, but by the time that we arrived at Kings Cross station on September 1st I was so caught up in the moment that I forgot all except for my fascination with all the excitement that surrounded me.

I again walked in the shadow of Bellatrix, who was due to start her third year of Hogwarts, but this time Father had decided to accompany us. I knew that it wasn't in order to see me off. He had very little regard for me, and it would be unlike him to even try to show the supposed affection that fathers are supposed to have for their little girls.

"Stop gaping. Do you want people to think that we are nothing more than lowly blood filth?"

Bellatrix laughed, "If anybody were to make them think that, it would be Andromeda, wouldn't it?" She turned on me sharply, "Well, don't you agree? Generations of nobility runs through your veins and you would be the one to squander it all. Isn't that right?"

I frowned and concentrated on my feet as they passed over the lines and cracks of the cemented ground. Bellatrix didn't make me answer, but let out her own delighted laugh of personal triumph and walked a little quicker, pushing herself ahead of her sister and father.

So was this why he had come, was it – to get in a few last spiteful words against me? It was bad enough that he was so cold towards me, but why must it also set my sister against me and leave me feeling ashamed of myself? That wasn't fair at all, was it?

Not long afterwards, I was able to part company with him over very stiff farewells and, Bellatrix already having vanished into the crowd, was left by myself on the platform.

I felt very alone for a moment as I stood on my own in the midst of so many people hustling about and calling out to each other, none of whom I knew. However, I took a deep steadying breath and forced myself to bury the feeling as I stepped onto the noisy train, struggling to pull my loaded trunk along with me.

I had never been on a train before, let alone a train loaded to the brim with ecstatic teenagers, all of whom knew each other far too well. Kids were laughing, kids were joking, kids were yelling, kids were everywhere. Would life at Hogwarts be as wildly chaotic as this? I had never been in a place with so many people my own age, a place where laughter seemed to radiate out of every corner, at once both contagious and isolating.

I quickly found myself a compartment that looked empty enough, although upon entry I discovered that another student had left their belongings on the rack, reserving their seat for the journey.

I was suddenly attacked by anxiety. I didn't know who this person was. Perhaps they would be civil enough, but what if not? It could be some mean boy who wanted to bully me, or some older student who thought that I was just a joke. Was it safe to choose this compartment? Anything could happen, and it just might be the thing to ruin my journey to my amazing new school.

However, I realized that there was limited time and surely all of the other compartments were full by now, and perhaps with worse company than the closed trunk of my mystery travel companion.

I sighed and, with a great effort, heaved my trunk up into the rack above my seat and settled myself beside the window, twiddling my thumbs a little to distract myself as I tried to pass the time.

I had begun to drift into a daze of my own private thoughts when the compartment door slid open and a figure appeared, "Oh… Hello there," she said.

I looked up in surprise, temporarily caught off guard. I had known that she had been sure to return, but I simply hadn't expected her at that moment. "Uh… Hi." I said, not sure how best to greet a perfect stranger with whom I would be spending the rest of my journey with.

"Might I sit down?" she asked me.

"Oh…" I said, slightly taken aback by her question, "Well, it's your compartment, isn't it?"

She flashed a nervous smile and turned to sit herself down across from me. For a moment I examined her as she busied herself in getting settled. She didn't look very old at all, and could easily be my own age. She had sleek dark hair that was half tied back with a tidy little ribbon, and on her neck she wore a glinting sapphire necklace. She was very tiny, and hardly seemed to take up any space at all, yet she had a certain glow to her smile that filled more space than any person could.

All settled in, she looked up at me expectantly, "You're a first year as well, aren't you?" she asked.

"Oh… Yes, I am." I said, "How did you know?"

"You're staring." She pointed out quiet simply. "But don't worry; I feel the same as well. There is so much to see, isn't there?"

"Yea, there sure is, uh…" I trailed off, finding myself at a loss for her name.

"Oh yes, of course," she said, remembering herself, "I'm Adriana – Adriana Brown, that is. And you are…?"

"Andromeda. Andromeda Black."

"Well isn't that funny? Our names are kind of similar, aren't they?" She said with a twinkle, "Except that I am Brown and you are Black. I suppose you are just a darker shade of me then, aren't you?"

I nodded simply, but quite honestly did not find much interest in the matter. It was my ambition to find my identity and significance as it pertained to myself, not as it did to others, and I was quite sure that there was no connection between the two.

Temporary silence fell between the pair of us at my lack of enthusiasm for her observation, and we fell to jointly staring out the window and watching the scenery stream by. Apparently the train had begun its journey during our brief exchange and we had been too preoccupied to take notice. As the train had begun to leave the station of my old life and enter into the wild landscape of my new, I had let myself get distracted. I had not noticed at all.

When I grew tired of watching the scenes of fields and small woods fly past the windows, I turned my attention instead to my partner. She seemed to be a nice enough girl and a part of me wanted to get to know her better, although another part of me found the anxiety of attempting to befriend somebody too much for the present moment. She was very polite and had a strange sort of carefully composed crispness to her manner which I wasn't yet sure if I liked or not.

Finally I felt pressed to break the silence, though I did not quite know what to say, "Do you…" I began uncertainly, "Are you excited to be going to Hogwarts?"

Adriana beamed, "Oh yes, I am so pleased. There is so much to learn and experience. I can't imagine how thrilling it must be! And just to think, this will practically be our home for seven whole years! I have never really been away from home, so it is a little scary for me, but I know that I will enjoy it so much. What about you?"

I nearly replied with rivaling eagerness but had to swallow my own words, almost involuntarily, "Uh, yea… It'll be cool – I guess."

Why did I say that? Surely I was just as excited as she was, if not more so, and had every right to say so. I knew she would not look upon me with scorn as Bellatrix or father would have done, but I still felt that I had to suppress any foolish displays of enthusiasm.

Despite my silence, Adriana seemed to understand my true feelings and smiled warmly at me, "You know what? I like you. I wasn't sure if I would have any friends here, but I think that you are very nice."

"Oh… Thank you," I said, surprised at the sudden compliment. "Yeah, I think I like you too."

After that, somehow it all clicked into place between us. I was still a little uneasy about talking to somebody who I did not know well at all, but she had a certain charm about her that made me feel much more comfortable. And just knowing that she liked me… well, that made all the difference.

We began by exchanging the polite small talk of two people who are curious to know more about each other without wanting to appear nosy. Then, as the day went on and the sun rose higher overhead, we sat together and ate our lunches from the snack trolley and laughed as we freely exchanged stories.

Adriana wanted to know all about Hogwarts. She must not have had any older siblings like I did, because there was a lot that she did not understand. I did not mind her endless questions though, and told her all that I knew. It was nice to have an eager listener for once.

Together we fantasized a little more about what life at Hogwarts would be like, so engaged with each other that we hardly noticed as the sun set and darkness fell around the train. We each knew that much was coming for each of us, but for the moment only one thing mattered: we were friends.

After what seemed like a fairly brief journey, though I knew a full day must have passed, we pulled into the Hogsmeade station. It was very difficult to maneuver out of the train and onto the very crowded station through all of the other students and I had to crane my neck considerably to find Adriana, who was attempting to follow from a little way behind me.

We were soon reunited, and not long afterwards overwhelmed by a large, booming voice, "Firs' years, firs' years, over here! Get outta here, you… Firs' years, this way!"

I caught Adriana's eye and nodded significantly. I had already told her all that I knew about this very abnormal gamekeeper, and that it was best to keep a safe distance and not get tangled with him. She seemed taken aback by his sheer size, and quickly followed behind me.

The first years were all led to the castle by way of small boats, crossing the dark lake that spread over the grounds of Hogwarts School. Adriana seemed to think that this was magnificent and kept staring up at the approaching castle in awe, but I had my gaze fixed on the Gamekeeper. Surely someone of his kind should not be trusted, especially with first years who couldn't even protect themselves properly. I was convinced it would only be a matter of minutes before he leapt out on us all as a terrifying beast.

But we made it to the castle quite safely, and when we reached the underground harbor and got out of our boats, we were all lead up the dark stone passage way into the castle intact.

The atmosphere of mingled excitement and fear that shrouded the group of first years was so absolute that I don't think a single one of us was breathing properly. There was a sense in every one of us that seemed to say, "We are finally here. This is it."

As for me, I actually felt quite numb. I believe that the excitement vibe inside me must not have been functioning properly, because when I usually would have been dizzy with excitement, I was standing stock still, hardly able to so much as breath or move a muscle.

But I could not stand there like a frozen statue forever. Soon enough the huge double doors of the Great Hall were thrown open and we were sent marching down the center of the vast banquet hall.

I had always thought that the rooms at home were large, but this was bigger than anything that I had ever seen. The ceiling seemed to go on forever, and it amazingly transfigured itself into the night sky, making it impossible to judge just where it ended.

As enthralled as I was at the moment, I wasn't quite as spellbound as some of the other kids, who evidently had very little knowledge of the school at all. I felt a slight sense of satisfaction upon seeing this, the old Black family pride kicking in to tell me how much more significant than them I clearly naturally was.

After walking the length of the Hall, which felt as if it would never end, we all fell still. As our small footsteps stopped echoing around the room and I was suddenly aware that all of the faces in the room were fixed upon us.

For a brief moment I wondered if Bellatrix was out there someplace, watching me. I turned and craned my neck to see, but too many figures and faces lined the tables for me to hope to pick out the eminent face of my sister.

By the time that I turned back to face forward with the rest of the first years a teacher had come forward and stood holding a scroll of paper. A stool sat nearby, on which the oldest hat I have ever seen sat perched.

With another slight rise in my spirits I realized that many of my neighbors were staring blankly, unsure of what was expected of us. I, on the other hand, knew exactly what the frayed old hat was and the role that it was to play in the deciding of who I really was. While those around me were looking around uncertainly, I was beginning to lean forward out of eagerness for what was to come.

And then it began. The song was sung, the first name was called, the first small boy climbed up towards the stool, put the hat on, and then the first student was sorted. Applause rang throughout the hall for the boy that I tried to join in with, but I found that I could only do so half-heartedly. What if my name was the next to be called?

But it wasn't. I watched several of my peers be sorted into all four of the different houses, and each time I was left itching to be in their place. I could hardly contain myself any longer and each moment I wondered when my time would come.

I held my breath, and for a moment I almost thought that I heard my own name, but instead it turned out to be my friend from the train; "Brown, Adriana!"

I gave her a quick and rather weak grin of good luck as she departed from my side, and watched as she sat herself down on the stool and had the tattered old hat lowered over her neat hair. I wondered from my own knowledge of her where I would put her if I were in charge of it instead of some silly old hat. Just before I could come to a decision, the moth-eaten brim of the hat opened and bellowed:

"RAVENCLAW!"

I clapped for her enthusiastically, but all the while dying to be sorted myself, to be able to sit right at home at one of the four long tables.

My patience was tested a short while longer in which I felt that I might explode, but then after only a few names more, there it was:

"Black, Andromeda!"

The moment I had been waiting for had finally come, but now that it was here, I was not sure if I could muster up the strength to move a single limb in all of my body. I glanced around uncertainly, and met eyes with Adriana, who gave me an encouraging nod from her seat among the blue-clad Ravenclaws. It was this that gave me the strength to move on. I stepped forward, taking comfort in the fact that although I was shaking all over, I was moving.

Before I had time to wonder how I had gotten there, I was sitting on the small stool and the hat was being lowered over my eyes.

Although I had known it was coming, nothing could have prepared me for this.

The hat, in its strange intrusive voice, whispered in my ear. It said strange things that made me feel very uncomfortable. I knew that its job was to put me where I belonged, but it was most unnerving how much it knew. Some of the things that it said made me simply want to squeeze my eyes shut and forget completely, while others made me frown and want to consider their meaning.

I knew that I surely could have only sat there for a few moments, but to me it felt as if I was trapped within the hold of the hat for an eternity. And then, quite suddenly, it opened its wide brim and shouted out my destiny:

"SLYTHERIN!"


	5. My First Year

**Chapter Five: My first Year**

* * *

Slytherin.

So that was it.

Slytherin.

My true self. My destiny. My identity.

Slytherin.

Relief swept over me like a warm breeze, running through my hair and becoming part of me.

So much worrying, so much hoping, and here I was. It was all about to fall into place. I knew it.

And how perfect for me to be sorted into Slytherin!

I had never exactly thought to identify myself with the characteristics of any of the particular houses, but I knew that this must be the right thing for me. Of course, I somehow doubted whether my family would accept me had I been sorted into any other, but I was nonetheless perfectly satisfied with the outcome.

And since I came from a long line of Slytherins, I was certain that I would have no problem fitting right into my new surroundings. And as for my search for my true self, if it was to be found through Hogwarts and consequentially Slytherin, then surely I wouldn't have to look too far from everything that I already knew. Perhaps none of this would be nearly as complicated as I had come to believe.

I found myself to be much more at ease now that I knew that I belonged somewhere. I watched the remaining first years get sorted into their houses, ate a copious dinner, indulged in probably a little too much dessert, and allowed myself to be led down to the dungeon that would be my common room and new home.

I did all of this without a single moment's hesitation, and my bones and muscles already felt familiar with the pathway down to the Slytherin common room as if I had walked there countless times before and already knew the way. It struck me that practically every one of my ancestors must have walked this same way every evening after finishing a long day and full meal. I felt more than ever as if this must be where I belonged.

I slept soundly that night. I had no doubts about what lay in store, and a slight grin formed involuntarily on my lips as I dreamt of all that the coming days and years held for me.

The next few weeks went fairly smoothly for me. At breakfast the next morning we were all told when and where our classes would be held, and not long afterwards we all hurried off to begin our magical studies at Hogwarts.

A few of the classes were interesting, my particular favorite being Transfiguration. The idea that you can take an object and change it into something completely different greatly appealed to me, and I took note to pay close attention in that class, in case I missed something that may be key to my own very different kind of transfiguration.

The teachers, on the other hand, were not very exciting. I couldn't say that I liked any of them very much at all. I had never really been one to excel academically; Bellatrix had always been the smart one in the family. Also, I think that there must always have been a stubborn rebel lurking someplace within me, because I did detest authority.

Luckily, I soon discovered that school was not all about learning. If it wasn't for this fortunate discovery, I may not have been able to hold out for very long. But as it was, I quickly found better ways to keep occupied. Finding myself amidst such strange new surroundings, it seemed as if there was something new to experience and something exciting to discover all of the time. I wondered if the marvel of it might wear off as I became more accustomed to it all, but at the moment everything still seemed so incredible to me.

Of course, I was not too eager to admit it. Just as my father and sister had been, many of my fellow Slytherins seemed to find it disdainful to show such gawking enthusiasm, and I was not eager to be disapproved of just yet.

Although somewhat awkward and not entirely socially attuned, I felt eager to befriend as many of my new classmates as possible. At the time I never even thought of Adriana, the sweet girl who I had met on the Hogwarts Express. What with her being in Ravenclaw and I in Slytherin we rarely got to see each other, let alone think of each other. I did actually have one class with her, but the teacher happened to be a sour-mouthed old bore who thought that the greatest sin against humanity was the faintest invasion into sterile silence, and punished us for it accordingly. Outside of class our paths never crossed. And although I suppose that we could have met up if I had only made the effort, I was so preoccupied with everything that was happening that she really was the last thing on my mind.

I did look for friends closer, however. In Slytherin itself I found a very prominent group made up of students mostly of the fourth year and below, a kind of elite gang. I was attracted to them for many reasons. I knew that I would be plenty respected if I was one of them, I would have a very secure status, and I was sure that my sister would approve of them, which meant a lot to me. I vaguely suspected that they may be up to some rather foul business within the school, but I convinced myself that it couldn't be anything too bad, and that I could not possibly be affected by it.

The leader of this group happened to be a third year girl with rich blonde hair that she handled in a way that reminded of my little Narcissa, although it was not as long and lacked a certain sleekness to it. She was called Estrella, and she commanded a great deal of attention from anybody she came across, regardless of age or authority. I sometimes got the feeling that even teachers were brought down a level when around her.

I felt strangely attracted to her, and found myself wanting to be around her more and more, as if merely being in her presence would allow me to draw some of her power into myself. However, I was so often intimidated by her behavior that I was unable to work up the courage to even approach her.

Instead, I began to make an effort as slowly and inconspicuously as I could to be seen around their crowd. By sitting across from one of her friends at a meal or walking near a few of them as we circulated from class to class, I hoped at the very least that they would become accustomed to my presence and slowly draw me in. Once or twice while listening intently to their conversations I would even mutter a snide or witty remark under my breath that someone would catch and look up at me with a smirk, although the moment would rarely last longer than that.

At times I would really get very annoyed with myself, wondering why I could not do more, could not be more. I feared that I would never be anything more than a little girl trailing hopefully behind the great, never quite worthwhile enough to be noticed.

And over time the feelings intensified. I was not only annoyed with myself, no. I hated myself. The more time that passed, the less I thought of myself. If they couldn't find value in me then how could I? I was swiftly coming to see just how worthless I really was. Sometimes I saw it in the way that Bellatrix looked at me, sometimes in the way that Estrella didn't. Sometimes I just knew. And if I wasn't good enough now, then how could I ever be?

Surely I couldn't. Surely I was stuck like this for good. I was not growing, I was not better. Hogwarts had not done its duty. It was supposed to change me, to work its magic and transform me into an entirely new person! But that had not happened.

Though, in a way, perhaps it had. I had certainly never felt this way before. I did not like the way I felt at all, but it was most certainly different than however I was before I had come here. Was it possible that this was it? Was this the person who I was meant to become, as fully transfigured as I could ever be? Could I ever be anything more? At the time, it seemed wholly improbable to me.

This is how I lived my first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. After all of my dreams, schemes, and fantasies, this is all that there was for me. The year that I had awaited most eagerly for so long turned out instead to be a plague of intensified self-doubt, rejection, and the slow realization that there really wasn't any place where I truly belonged.

Although I did not know it at the time, as that year went by I slowly but surely let go of every one of the dreams which I had clung to with such vigor, the dreams that had given me purpose and kept me living.

And without my dreams, what was left for me?


	6. My Acceptance

**Chapter Six: My Acceptance**

* * *

That summer I went home feeling like a defeated warrior, having marched off to battle with enthusiastic passion of the highest variety, only to return with crushed hopes and spirits.

I was disappointed and disillusioned and as early as that, I felt certain that things could not get worse. But I was wrong. While I had been away, my mother had fallen ill. I did not know what was the matter with her or if anybody did. But something was definitely wrong, and the very knowledge of it lived within the walls of the home I once again found myself confined to.

There was a sickly chill that seemed to fall over the whole house that I was sure could not have been there before. It numbed me like a deep sting, overwhelming me with this feeling that I was not even at home here, in my own home. I was lost. I walked idly throughout the large rooms with nothing to do but listen to the distant echoes of my footsteps calling back to me from the cold unfeeling walls.

Narcissa seemed to shrink that summer. Her glowing presence filled less and less of the house and she somehow seemed weaker than ever before. I would have liked to comfort her in some way, but I could think of nothing to say. I had always loved the dear girl and protected her just as the rest of the family had, but the two of us were hardly close and there just didn't seem to be anything that I could do.

I wondered vaguely why we were all so heavily affected by Mother's illness. She had always been distant at best, so what difference could it make if she was gone altogether? Would we really care at all if just she went away and never came back? To our own surprises, we must have.

But Mother's illness was not what made the summer slow and torturous for me. My real torture came from another member of my family who I had looked up to with so much admiration and awe for all of my life.

Yes, Bellatrix.

Bella was the only one who this turn of events didn't seem to affect.. She simply went on with her life as if there was nothing out of the ordinary. Sometimes I wondered if she realized that mother was dying, or if she could feel the change that was eating at the rest of us. If she did, she managed not to show the slightest sign of it.

I wished I could be as indifferent as her. I did not want to have to feel these awful things and now know why. I wanted to be like her. But it was useless. The gap between us was growing wider and wider all the time.

She had hardly spoken to me since we had returned from Hogwarts together, and I could not imagine what I had done to deserve such cold treatment. She had always placed herself above me, which I could accept to an extent. But now she seemed to ignore my very existence, and when she did acknowledge me, it was with a discernable level of contempt.

I wanted to know what I had done wrong so that I could set it right. I hated feeling that I was a disappointment, especially to her. It is the worst feeling in the world when somebody who you idolize treats you as if you like a waste of space. I have learned this many times over, and it has only served to deepen the consuming sense I had growing within me that I simply did not belong.

I hoped, whatever her reason was for shoving me aside in this way, that someday it would pass and that deep down she really did care for me. I had to keep telling myself this, though even then I was not sure if I could really believe it. Even if it was a lie, it was a lie I had to keep telling myself.

No longer filled with false dreams of what Hogwarts held for me, this summer I did not count down the days until I would return, did not pack and repack my trunk every night as if I would be leaving the next morning, and I did not model my robes on myself as I had done the year before. What I did do was slowly come to realize that I actually dreaded the day when I would have to leave my secluded world to return to Hogwarts - the once mystical place where I now knew that I scarcely belonged.

But the summer could not last forever. In fact, it felt as if it could be the shortest one that I had ever experienced. All too soon September had arrived again and I found myself standing at the train station with Bellatrix.

This time father had not come to see us off. This time nobody scowled at me for my youthful fascination. This time I had no glow in my eyes, no eager anticipation for what was to come. This time I like nothing… It all felt like nothing.

I dragged my trunk onboard, found a compartment, settled myself in, and waited for somebody else to join me. It occurred to me that I was reliving all the same movements and actions as the previous year, only in an entirely different body. And this year none of it held any meaning for me.

Not long afterwards a young boy joined me. He was a first year, and was so excited that he looked as if he might fall off of his seat at the drop of a pin. I glared at him in disgust and buried my head in my arm against the window, pretending to fall asleep, and spent the rest of the journey focusing the entirety of my thoughts on how much I despised the little demon.

We arrived at Hogwarts, the new students were sorted, and my second year began. The whole time all that was on my mind was how much I wished it could be summer and I could get myself away from all this again. Even the awful isolation of home had to be better than the inevitable disappointment that I would find here.

I felt more sour and bitter than I could ever recall feeling. Nothing was real to me, and I wanted everything to disappear and to be left leave me alone.

But no matter how much I tried, even if I were to curl up in a corner and scream until I could hear nothing else, the world would still be there, waiting only moments away, ready to remind me of all that I was not. The only thing that I could do was to swallow my pride and face it. I certainly was not willing, but it seemed that I had no other choice. In a place where there is so much going on everywhere that you look, it is impossible to hide yourself away undisturbed.

I slowly and begrudgingly began to come out of the shell that I had lived in throughout the recent months, and tried to move on. It was certainly not easy, but I did find that the world was still out there.

I got through those early weeks simply by concentrating on my schoolwork. I had never been the clever type, but academics were at least something to focus on. As time went on, however, I found that it was not quite as difficult as before to sit with my head up at meals instead of staring intently at my fork and pretending that I did not exist. I even started to take time for a stroll or two across the grounds and was actually occasionally able to appreciate a nice day when I saw one.

My most paining regret remained that I still did not belong anywhere. No matter how much my state "improved," I couldn't ignore the fact that I was as evidently friendless as ever before.

My mind wandered back to Estrella and her crowd. I did not idolize them with the same unreserved devotion as I had before, but I still looked up to them, knowing that they had everything I did not. They were worth something; I was not. But what if I did become one of them, like I had dreamed before? But no. It was hopeless. I shouldn't even try. I knew this, and yet once the idea gripped my head I could not hide from it.

I again began to pine for acceptance from these fellow students of mine. But just as this year my eagerness to attend Hogwarts had not matched that of the previous year, the enthusiasm of my new attempts to be accepted did not reach previous levels either. However surprisingly, this time around they were not in vain.

I had long since realized that simply hanging around could never catch anyone's attention or gain me any real credit. Instead it became clear that I would have to do something extraordinary to prove myself.

I began to devise a plan. I didn't know what would be enough to really impress them, but I reasoned that if my first attempt was not good enough for them, I would think of something else and then something else until I finally caught myself some sort of attention.

And so it was that late one night I crept out of the common room after hours and onto the grounds. I had confidence that I would not be caught. I had seen several other students do the same thing, and with the Slytherin common room so close to the entrance hall, it was relatively simple to slip out undetected.

Once I was outside it was only a matter of finding the correct greenhouse and getting inside under the moonlight. I had never been in this greenhouse before, but I knew what I was looking for. After some minutes of carefully wading through the dark plants I managed to find what I was after, and saw with relief that I wouldn't even have to do any extraction myself – there were already a few small tubfuls perched beneath the workbench. I carefully took what I needed and was able to get back to my dormitory with ease where I stored the stuff under my bed for the next day.

The rest of my scheme depended primarily on improvisation and I knew could play out many different ways, but it was up to me to find the way that would make enough of a scene for Estrella would notice, as well as making my role clear. All of course while, preferably, not getting me into too much trouble. I knew that I was asking quite a lot, but if it all worked out then it would surely be worth it.

That afternoon I walked out onto the grounds without even a clear picture of what exactly I was going to do. All that I knew was that the time had come and I wouldn't let myself back out now.

I sat near the lake with my homework sitting in front of me, although I did not bother to even carry out the pretense of focusing on it. My hand was instinctively resting on the flap on my handbag, under which sat the small jar, waiting for use.

My eyes were fixed on the door of the castle, counting down the moments until I knew Estrella would come out at the usual time, accompanied by the usual group. I wanted to put my plan into action as soon as they reached the grounds, or else I feared they would be lost to some greater distraction and it would all be for naught.

Finally they came. They sat themselves down not too far away and began shouting playfully amongst each other. Telling myself that it had to be now or never, I hastily transferred the ooze-filled jar into the pocket of my robes and stood up, steadying myself.

I walked, not knowing exactly what my destination was. I knew that I had to stay within their view, but there was one more thing: I had to find a victim.

I had never done this kind of thing before, but I had learned enough from Bella to know that finding the right victim was essential. Not being much of bully myself, I clearly saw the need to find somebody who would be able to be tread over easily. And it did not take long at all.

Moments later, my eyes fell upon the tiny boy whom had been such an annoyance when we had shared a compartment on the train. He was sitting all by himself and gave a noticeable shudder as he eyed the Great Lake nervously. I could see clearly that he would be the easiest target around.

I took a deep breath and strode straight towards him, hoping with every fiber of my body that something would come out of my mouth once I got there. I knew what my end objective for this afternoon was; I just hoped that I was able to get there.

Before I had time for a single remark to even form within my mind, I was standing there with my shadow looming over him. He didn't look up at me, but I was certain that he knew I was there, as he had drawn his arms around himself in the apparent attempt to make himself disappear.

I prodded him hard with my foot, "Hey what's wrong with you kid?" I demanded. He didn't make a sound. I jabbed my foot into his side again belligerently, "What are you afraid of – I'm not going to hurt you."

He still did not look up at me, and I turned towards some of the students sitting nearby, "Hey everybody – check this out!" I shouted, "This little baby's afraid to talk to me…" I attempted to drown the nervousness I felt within me with the false confidence of a callous laugh. "I bet he just wants to go home and curl up with his Mommy and have a good cry, doesn't he?" I taunted, "Would that make you feel better, baby? Could Mommy save you from the big mean kids?"

I reached my arm out to grab him by his shoulder and pull him up from the ground, but he felt the malignance of my approach and skirted away with a little squeal.

I gave a very pronounced laugh at this and so did a few others, for a small crowd had begun to grow around us by this time, giving the boy no place to escape to. For a moment he attempted to run one direction and then another, only to find that there was not a single sympathetic face in any direction.

I took advantage of this momentary distraction and lunged towards his things. He had his schoolbag, a few books, and… ah yes, a jacket! I worked quickly, and moments later I was back on my feet, ready to continue mocking him.

He was cowering in a heap when I found him, and again I turned to the small crowd that had gathered, "I have never seen such a little wimp," I cried with a laugh, "I bet he can't even do proper magic… He is probably afraid of his own wand!"

The crowd let out a collective burst of laughter, and I decided that I had as much attention from them as I was going to get, and I could only hope that Estrella and her gang were watching as well.

I grabbed him by his shoulders and steered him back to where he had sat before, finding that he had no strength left in him with which to resist me.

Adopting a very obvious mocking voice I said, "Aww… I feel bad for the little baby now. Nobody cares about him and all he can do is cry. Here, let Mommy Black dry your little baby tears. That's right… now take your bag… and your books… and your coat…"

He showed no attempt to resist me, and suffered this humiliation as the crowd around us laughed and jeered. His head hung low in disgrace, letting me drape his bag over his shoulders, and then shove the pile of books into his arms, and then to carefully bring the sleeves of his jacket up over his bare arms.

Almost immediately he let out a howl and the books fell from his arms and scattered over the ground at his feet. For a moment everybody fell silent and froze, stunned. But then, seeing him hop around in a mad attempt to tear his jacket from his arms as the strange yellowish-green liquid seeped out over his skin, the crowd burst into hysterical laughter, watching him make such an utter fool of himself.

Somehow he must have finally managed to get the jacket off and dodge through the roaring crowd. I was too preoccupied to notice anything but his tiny figure bolting up the hill to the castle in a frenzy. The crowd remained in its ecstatic state and I was applauded and congratulated for livening up a dull Saturday afternoon.

"That was absolutely hilarious!"

"Way to go…"

"Did you see that kid? He looked like he really was going to run crying to his Mommy!"

Finally Estrella and her friends broke through the crowd. So they had seen. I held my breath as if my judgment day had come. But there was no need to be nervous. They seemed as entertained as everybody else.

"Sweet job kid!"

"That was absolutely priceless!"

One of the older boys squatted down by the spot where the jacket had fallen and inspected the residue of liquid left behind. "Bubotuber pus? Nice work."

"What?" I said faintly, my eyes widening, "No, I didn't really… It wasn't supposed to be –"

"Oh, now don't you try to back out of it. We all saw what you did, and you have every right to take credit for it."

"Oh no, but I didn't really mean…"

But I trailed off as Estrella herself stepped forward and looked me over with an appraising eye. "I've seen you around, kid… What's your name?"

I swallowed, "Andromeda Black, and I just want to say that I didn't really–"

But she cut me short, "Black… Black? You haven't got a sister, have you?" I nodded. "Well I'll be. Hey everybody, check it out… The very flesh and blood of Bellatrix Black right before our very eyes."

"You… you know her?" I asked.

"Oh yeah, I know her. You might say that she thinks that I am a bit… amateur, I suppose you would say… But that just goes to show, doesn't it?"

"Oh… Yeah. I suppose it does, doesn't it?" I said weakly, not entirely sure what I was agreeing with,

But it made no difference. Estrella grinned down at me and clamped a hand on my shoulder, "You're all right kid, you know that? Come on along with us…"

And so that was that. As simple as that Estrella put her arm around me and drew me into her circle, and everything was made right.

Again, I was wrong. I had figured that everything would be set right when I became one of them, but life simply could not be that simple. Ever since that afternoon, the face of that frightened little boy haunted me. I hadn't really meant to hurt him – just give him a good scare. But by making a mistake and using the wrong substance, I caused him unnecessary pain, and every shriek he had let out seemed to echo in my mind with heightened gravity.

I felt disgraced. Was it really necessary for me to sink to this level, just so that I could feel that I belonged someplace? And then another doubt began to appear within my mind: what if I did not belong with them at all? If this was what I had to do just to get them to notice me, then who knew what they would expect from me in the future?

What bothered me even more was that still Bellatrix did not pay the slightest bit of attention to me. I had hoped that perhaps if these people could approve of me, then she could as well. But I was wrong. I remembered what Estrella had said about Bellatrix looking upon her as an amateur, and I wondered if that was true. Did she simply see me as too silly and juvenile to be taken seriously as well?

I felt betrayed. I was uncertain by whom, but I knew that there had to be somebody to blame. Somebody had given me all of these false hopes and ideas only to snatch away my dreams from me moments later. Somebody had wanted to trick me and watch me fall and suffer. Somebody…

The fact of the matter was that I did not know the first thing about what I was doing.

I was following these people blindly with no alternative. Where they would lead me, I did not know. I knew that it did not feel entirely right, but I had no way to fight it, nowhere else to turn.

As lost and uncertain as I felt on the inside, my outer self never made any attempt to hold back or do anything to object. I continued to play along with them, in hopes that I could convince myself that I wasn't really alone, that everything would begin to fall into place in time.

It never did.


	7. My Promise

**Chapter Seven: My Promise**

* * *

Even then, once I was at last "a part of something," I still felt the need to escape at times, and reverted into my characteristic isolation. Mostly I confined myself to the school library, not to do schoolwork so much as to hide from the chaotic mess that was my life.

It was on one such afternoon that I was startled by the unexpected touch of a tender hand on my shoulder.

Caught off guard and not used to being touched so gently, I gave an alarmed jump. The hand quickly withdrew itself, but the girl who had placed it there remained steadfast. I looked up at her accusingly, but something in her eyes soothed me.

I knew those eyes… Or at least I had sometime in a past that seemed so distant now. In a sea of strangers they had been the only friendly eyes that sought me out, and yet I could not quite place them.

"Andromeda?" The girl asked gently, "Don't you remember me… it's me, Adr-"

"Adriana?" I whispered. Now that I spoke her name, I didn't know how I had not realized instantly, "Is it really?"

"Why of course it is. Who else would it be, silly?" She teased, but her face glowed with warm pleasure.

"It's really you…" I felt as if I had been reunited with an old friend whom I had long accepted I would never be able to see again. Now that I thought of it, as a matter of fact, I felt as if she had disappeared from my life the moment that I had been sorted into Slytherin. It seemed too obviously simple now – I could have gone to her any one of those many times when I had felt so alone. But I, of course, had not.

"I… I…" I began, not knowing what to say.

She put a finger over her lips, mimicking the glare of the school's harsh librarian and laughed, "Come on, we can talk outside." She grabbed me by the wrist and we both hurried out of the library and into the halls.

Once outside, we filled our eyes with each other, trying to fill in the blanks that we had missed since we had last seen each other. She had definitely grown. When I first met her she had looked as if she would get trampled by the real world, but something about her had matured. She still had that same youthful innocence and sweetness that made her so darling, and yet there was something in her that said that she was ready to fight the dirty world with every bit of her petite strength. Aside from this improved confidence and maturity, physically she looked very much the same, give or take an inch – she even wore the same cheap sapphire necklace I had noticed hen we first met!

I wondered what she saw as she gazed at me so deeply.

"Oh, Andromeda…" She said gently, as she stretched out her arms to embrace me.

I quickly backed out of the way of her arms, "Oh don't. That's awkward… sorry."

She stared at me for a moment and then nodded, "That is okay. I understand." I wondered briefly if she really did, but did not articulate my reservations.

There was a silence in which neither of us spoke, and then she whispered, "I missed you, Andromeda."

I nodded, "Yes, I know." She looked up at me inquiringly, and then I said, "I mean… and I suppose I missed you too."

She frowned. "Is everything all right Andromeda?"

"Of course it is. Why would anything be wrong?"

She said nothing, but I could tell that something in her was worried. Not wanting the discussion to fall onto everything that was wrong in my life, I quickly said, "Tell me about yourself, Adriana. I want to know everything that has happened to you since we last saw each other."

Adriana went slightly pink. "Everything? My, that really is quite a lot. But I suppose… Well, really nothing much has happened. Nothing exciting anyway. I have been learning a lot in school of course, and I think it is all quite fascinating… My parents keep sending me letters demanding to know everything as well, though I never do know just what to tell them! And I have made some new friends… I have missed you so much though!"

I nodded as she spoke. Even from just her brief summary, Adriana's first two years at Hogwarts seemed so different from my own. While I was constantly plagued with self doubt and anxiety, she was having a jolly old time and enjoying every minute of it.

Finally she concluded, with the inevitable question I had been dreading, "What about you? I'm sure you have done so much as well."

She gazed at me expectantly, but I simply shrugged my shoulders, "Oh, I don't know… just school I guess."

She frowned slightly, and said, "But surely something must have…"

"All right, all right, "I snapped, "What do you want to know?"

She looked quite startled, but answered honestly, "Well, frankly, I want to know about these people you are hanging out with… I have heard quite a bit about this Estrella girl and her friends."

I didn't look at her, and focused my attention upon my fingers, muttering, "Yeah, I bet you would have…"

I did not see her reaction, but from the silence I could tell that she was thinking carefully. Finally she said what I knew would have come out in only a matter of time, "I heard about what you did to that poor little first year…"

I said nothing. What was there to say? Would she even be able to understand anyway? How could she, whose Hogwarts experience had been filled with nothing but friends, giggles, and schoolwork?

"Andromeda? Please… why won't you talk to me?"

I said nothing.

"Why won't you speak? Please, I only want to – "

I stamped my foot suddenly down and shouted, "Because you won't understand, that's why! Because you want everything to be… happy and all daisies and flowers, but it's not. Because you don't know how to suffer. You haven't been hurting all of this time like I have! You don't know what it is like to have nowhere to turn to, nobody who understands you. You don't understand what it is like to need to be accepted, and to have to do whatever it takes to get noticed. You don't know what it is like to have the people you care about the most, your own sister, wish that you didn't even exist and weren't always getting in the way. You… you don't understand anything!"

I couldn't see her. I couldn't see at all. My eyes were fogged with tears, and the world was swimming before me in a mad whirl. Somewhere out of the darkness a pair of tender arms reached out wrapped themselves around me. Once again I tried to resist and pull away, but they held me strong and steadfast, a remarkable feat for such a small girl.

I slowly gave in, and instead of trying to escape from her sheltering arms, I let the tears come freely, falling constantly from my eyes as I let out all that I had been holding inside for so long.

It took a long time, but finally, when it felt as if there could not possibly be any tears left inside me, I began to quiet down, "Oh, Adriana…" I moaned, "There is just so much that… that…. I just don't know…"

She rubbed my back gently and rocked me back and forth, "I know…" She whispered softly, "I know…"

We stood there for what felt like forever, and finally, when my sobs had long fallen to silence, I felt as if I had to say something.

I slowly broke myself away from her comforting arms, avoiding eye contact, dried the tears off of my face with my sleeve, and then at last spoke, making a great effort to control the wavering of my voice. "I feel like there is so much… that I don't mean to let happen. But I don't know how to stop it and so it happens anyway and I don't have any control, and then I can't stop anything… And I just don't know what to do."

She looked as if she would have well liked to reach out and embrace me again, but she held back, and I was grateful for it. Instead she spoke to me, "It is all right." She said, "You don't need to have all the answers… I can help you."

I instinctively reached my arm up to my face again to dry my tears, and when I had finished I nodded, "Thank you Adriana. That… that really does mean a lot."

We stood there in silence for a while until I had calmed down reasonably enough, and then she said, "Come on; let's go outside where there's some fresh air, shall we? It'll do you good."

I obeyed, following her dully out of the castle and onto the grounds, where the sun blazed so fiercely that I had to shield my eyes until I grew accustomed to the sudden surge of light of the outdoors.

It did feel nice to walk along under the cloudless skies with Adriana, and the ground was so soft beneath my feet that for a foolish moment I felt tempted to fling off my shoes and feel the fresh sting of grass between my toes. I resisted however, and continued walking simply along with my friend at my side.

We walked in silence, enjoying the fine day and each other's company. We said nothing and did not stop walking. We circled the populated area of the grounds once, twice… I wasn't certain how many times.

Everything kind of just felt at ease, right. I again wondered vaguely why I had not immedietley thought of Adriana every time that I had been feeling down and alone.

Her mind however, did not seem to be quite as at ease. Finally she could hold her tongue no longer and stopped walking, "Look Andromeda – there is something that I still want to know… and I think that you need to really think about it as well."

I turned to her with modest curiosity, "What is it?"

Not looking straight at me, she said, "Well… It is just these people that you hang out with. Your sister and this Estrella. Now, I don't know enough about any of them to be making any kind of judgments, but…. Well, they simply do not seem like the kind of people who…"

"Who what?" I asked. I could not understand what she was getting at, but I could feel my mind hardening. I did not want to know.

She gave me an aggravated look, and tried to go on, "Oh, you know… They just don't seem like the most… positive influences. I don't understand why – how they mean so much to you. What is it that makes you torture yourself so much for their sakes?"

I crossed my arms, "She is my sister. Are you saying that I should treat her as if –"

"Oh no, no!" she said quickly, "I didn't say that. I get that she is your sister and that you must have a certain respect for her… But to me it seems as if it sometimes gets to the point of… excessiveness – almost unhealthy, you know?"

I did not know why she was saying these things. I wanted her to stop, even if it meant that I had to make her. But I was held back by that persistent endearing glow that was painted upon her young face.

Instead I simply scowled as she continued, "What is it about her?" she begged to know, "Why do you chase after her like this when you know she is determined not to pay you any attention?"

Finally fed up, I spoke, "You've never had a sister, have you? Clearly not. And definitely not a sister like Bella. You just don't understand. She is… everything. She is confident, talented… She always knows what to say and do… Everybody looks up to her… She is as close as somebody could get to flawless… Her only flaw is that she doesn't care about me." I muttered the last phrase as an afterthought, but quickly rose my voice again afterwards, "But that isn't the point! Don't you see? She is everything that I wish I could be… and everything that I am not."

I glanced at Adriana. Her face had softened, but she did not speak. Unable to stand the silence, I went on, "And as for Estrella and the rest of them… It is the same thing. I suppose that you wouldn't see it, but when I look at that girl, I see something special. Something of my sister. I figure that if I can get Estrella to accept me and see that I am worth something, then maybe, just maybe, the same is possible for Bella."

I took a breath and went on, saying words that I didn't even know I had in me, "And it isn't even all about her. Sure she is my sister and means a ton to me, but there is something more… I need… I need to belong someplace. I'm sure that maybe your childhood was all hugs and cookies, but mine sure wasn't. There were so many things that I never got, and part of that is this feeling that you think I'm so silly for chasing – of acceptance. Of belonging."

I could say no more. I had revealed so much more than I had ever intended, even more than I had ever realized I had inside me.

But Adriana showed no signs of wanting me to go on. She hesitated only an instant before reaching out her hand and taking hold of mine. She looked me straight in the eye and said quite simply, "I see."

I gave her an uncertain look, "Do you?"

She nodded, "Yes. I cannot choose who you seek shelter and acceptance with. I can only hope that you know that you will always belong wherever I am… And that neither of us will ever get hurt because of this."

I was stunned by her words, "Oh, Adriana… I could never hurt you!"

She shook her head gravely, "It isn't me that I am worried about."


	8. My Grief

**Chapter Eight: My Grief**

* * *

My mother died that summer.

I think it must have been the biggest relief that I had faced for some time.

We had all known it was coming, and it was almost as if our lives had all been on hold, suspended in a breathless silence, only waiting for this to come.

When it finally did, I was truly surprised in the way that it affected me. Or I might say the way that it did not affect me.

Upon hearing the news, I had very little reaction, external or internal. I cannot say that I was particularly surprised, and I cannot say that I was particularly upset. Maybe it was shock. Maybe it was just too much for me and I couldn't process it. Maybe I was numb to reality.

But what I remember, and without the slightest trace of numbness or lack of clarity, is not knowing how I was supposed to feel. Having lost my mother, I was sure I was supposed to be stricken with grief or dramatically damaged in some profound internal way. But it was impossible for me to feel this way.

My mother had never been close to any of us, least of all myself, who was just the useless middle child: not interesting enough or pretty enough to be of much note. To tell the truth, I don't think that she ever actually cared for me. I always thought that she must deep down and that I, in turn, would find out that she really meant a lot to me.

It seems that the unyielding march of time proved me wrong. My mother's life came and went, and once she was gone all that was left was that single undeniable truth: my mother had never loved me.

Although my mother's death may not have had a huge effect on me, this realization did, and the implications haunted me.

What kind of child must I have been to not even be worthy of the love of my own mother? Granted, she was not the most devoted of mothers, but she did occasionally take the time to show affection to one of my sisters, but never to me. Was I really so worthless that my own mother simply didn't care?

Upon reflection I came to wonder about my father as well. He was an entirely different case altogether, and yet he had often treated me in the same indifferent manner, while doting upon my sisters. It was not as obvious as it had been with Mother, but I soon came to believe that his feelings for me were just as absent as hers had been.

So that was it then, was it? That was all that I was – the unlovable daughter of a loveless household. Maybe that was all that I would ever be.

I held nothing against my mother for this. If I really was such a disappointment she had every right not to have to appreciate me. I could hardly blame her for my own shortcomings.

Looking back, I wonder how I could have ever justified these thoughts. I am sure that some highly esteemed professional would have informed me that the root of the problem was my desire to be shown affection or something or other. I, however, am positive this is not the case. I never needed anything from my mother, let alone affection.

And so it was with minimal regret and yet many distracted thoughts harbored within my mind that I set out to attend my mother's funeral that late July afternoon.

Our whole family was weighted down in silence, though it was a silence that I was not able to clearly interpret. I believe that little Narcissa was the only one who truly grieved that day. She had lost one of her protectors, and in the process had been forced to see the fact that all people, even the ones she had thought would always be there, were ultimately vulnerable. That day she walked a little closer to our father, and she seemed to draw her cloak more tightly around her small figure, as if in attempt to keep the world out.

My father was very quiet that day as well, though I could not put my finger on the exact cause of his stillness. I was convinced that there had to be unknown factors, because he somehow did not seem to measure up to the role of the grieving husband. I had never understood my parents' relationship. They had always seemed to be almost strangers, and between the silence and the distance, I did not understand what could have kept them together all those years.

Throughout the funeral service I couldn't help but notice how he clutched his youngest daughter to him a little more tightly than before, never letting her leave his side. I realized that it must be some form of fear that I was seeing in him. He had just lost one member of his family, and now he trembled that he may loose another, more dear, member: his beloved daughter. He was aware that in only a few short weeks she would be sent away, off on her journey to Hogwarts at last. He feared losing her to the real world, for he knew that the moment he let go of her he could no longer protect her, no longer keep her close. She would perish or she would blossom, but she would be gone.

Bellatrix, as always, was impossible to read. There was no way I could begin to imagine what was thinking or feeling. She seemed to be becoming more and more of a mystery to everybody these days, especially to me. As I watched her, marching on with firm feet as though nothing in this world could faze her, I ached for the days past when she would turn to me with that sly grin of hers, sneak off with me when nobody was watching, or treat me like some sort of grand collaborator. But for now all that I could do was watch from a distance and hope that the girl I had known was not gone forever.

I believe that we would all have preferred the funeral to be a small, quick, and quiet affair, but that proved to be quite impossible. Due to our wealth and high blood status, it was our proper duty to humor the faceless masses that turned up to pay their respects to a departed member of our highly celebrated blood line. Many of the lot were my own relatives, the majority of whom I either detested or had never met and certainly had no desire to do so. However, as the daughter of the departed, I had the unfortunate obligation to greet each and every one of them in solemnity as they offered their uncaring condolences.

This was an extremely dreary task that I did not savor for a moment. They all seemed to expect me to be in the deepest state of grief and took it upon themselves to console me in their most tedious of ways. As the minutes faded into hours and I was confronted with contemptible face upon contemptible face, I truly felt myself on the brink of vomiting. It was too much. I had to get out of there.

I'm not sure just how I managed to escape from their clutches, but I did so as readily as possible and was luckily able to break free at long last. I knew that they would all notice my absence and scorn me for it, but I did not care any more. I just needed to get away from them all, and it didn't matter to me what they thought or said or did about it.

I left on swift and determined feet, oblivious to where I was going, so long as I did not have to go back. My eager feet shared my determination.

As it was, my feet led me to the orchid garden. It was a beautiful place, and when the sun shown on it just right it could sap the darkness out of the deepest sort of gloom. But today none of this beauty made any difference to me, and I wished that all of the cheer would vanquish itself from the place and leave me in peace.

I kicked vengefully at a blooming plant, almost wishing to see it mangled before my eyes. It swayed momentarily and shed a few pedals, but did nothing more to appease me.

I stood there, brooding in my anger for some time until I began to feel quite pleased with myself. I was almost ready to leave, whether to return to the dismal group inside or to escape further from them, when a feeling of subtle uneasiness came over me.

I turned around quickly, and found to my alarm that a small boy sat hidden in the limbs of a nearby tree, watching me with mild curiosity. I did not like being spied on at all; it made me feel quite vulnerable, not to mention foolish.

I placed my hands on my hips and did my best to give him a disapproving look, just like the ones that I had received on countless occasions as reproof for my own unacceptable behavior, "You really shouldn't be up in that tree," I said sternly, anticipating that the little thing would bend easily to my chastising.

Instead, the boy just looked indifferently down at me from the tree and shrugged with a slight smile, "You really shouldn't be destroying those plants."

I didn't know what to say, and retorted defensively, perhaps even childishly, "They are my plants, and I will do what I like with them."

He laughed a little and leapt down from the tree, landing cleanly on the bottoms of his feet. "So you are another Black then, are you? Like I didn't have enough blasted relatives already…"

I was taken aback by his words and did not know how to respond, "Excuse me, but… Well – "

He laughed dryly, "You know, I really don't see what all of this fuss is about. If she was anything like the rest of this lot, nobody's gonna miss her."

I frowned scornfully, "Well surely that is no way to speak at a funeral. People come here to pay their respects and to grieve and – "

He raised a skeptical eyebrow at me, "Is that so? Cause I don't see you grieving."

I turned my head sharply away from him, as if out of shame, but it was only a moment before I turned back to inspect him with curious eyes.

He was several years my junior and I did not recall ever meeting him before, although I was sure that he was a Black. He seemed a little dodgy, and I wondered if he regularly made it his business to hang around in trees after funerals and the like. And yet there was something else about him... I couldn't put my finger on it, but there seemed to be some trace of something lingering just behind his face that did not quite agree with the rest of him.

I wanted to address it, but I had no idea what to say, and the silence was growing slightly too lengthy for my liking. Finally, for want of something to say, I said, "Shouldn't you be inside?"

He shrugged vaguely, "Maybe I should, maybe I shouldn't… But I sure hope I'm not gonna be lectured for it by the girl who would sooner be out destroying her own flowers than paying respects to her dead mother."

I tilted my head slightly to the side, "You really are different, aren't you?"

He shrugged once again, "Only if you are."

I shook my head quickly, "Oh no, I really am not different, I swear." I had spent so much time and energy just trying to fit in, I didn't want my efforts to be overlooked.

"You're not? Funny – I don't see anybody else out here. What would your sisters say?"

I hung my head, "Well, I don't mean to be different… I actually try very hard not to be. My sisters, well, they never seem to think that I am good enough. But I try, I really do!"

He gave me an appraising look and sighed, "Look here, I don't know what you think you ought to be ashamed of. Hell, you should be proud! You think it's easy to come from families like ours and be different? Yes – you are different. And so am I. We are special."

"Special…" I repeated softly, "Are we really?"

"Most definitely. And I had better not live to see you forget it."

We stood there quietly, looking at each other, and looking away, and looking at each other. We were silent, but it was a silence that was no longer awkward. In many ways we were strangers and only children, and yet it was clear that there was something more to it. Just as I had felt that there was something else to him when I looked at him, I now was able to feel that something significant had passed between us.

Through the silence I gradually became more aware of the voices floating out from inside. I lifted my head and sighed, "I suppose we ought to go in, hadn't we?"

He did not seem at all excited by the prospect, "Says who?"

I began to object, but then said, "You know what? We can be special for a little while longer… And then we will go in and pretend to be stricken with grief and tears."

He grinned, "Sounds fun to me."

That day I realized for the first time that perhaps I really was different, and in a good way at that: special. I also learned that I was not alone. We were strangers that day, but from then on, whenever there was a family function of any sort, young Sirius Black and I would slip quietly off and be special together.

It really made a difference for me to have somebody who was more or less in the same situation as me and who knew how to handle it. Unfortunately, the occasions on which we saw each other were considerably rare. For the majority of the year I was away at school, and during the summers my family felt less and less inclined to attend the usual events of pure-blood balls and Black family reunions and the like.

I believe that he was truly a good kid and was special in many ways. He could have been the influence that really managed to set me on the right track.

However, as presence in my life grew increasingly scarce, and I was deprived of his positive influence when I most needed it.

And boy, would I need it.


	9. My Glimpse

**Chapter Nine: My Glimpse**

* * *

Everybody is at one point ashamed of themselves. In selfish attempts to reconcile themselves for the things they've done, people will hide behind all sorts of excuses. Many people turn to fate, insisting that the bad things that befall them are beyond their control, as are the things that they do. Others, not willing to deal with such heavy implications, take a slightly different path, simply saying that they only had so many options and chose the lesser of the evils.

But no matter how hard I try, I cannot conceal my wrongdoings under any such deceit. I would very much like to be able to claim in good faith that it was all beyond my own power and that I cannot be blamed.

But I see now that the truth lies far outside such realms of pretense and façades. I had every opportunity in the world to turn away from my darkening path. I had more opportunity than many others. I had a great friend who was willing to help me along every step of the way, doing whatever it took to free me of the negative influences that plagued my life. I had a cousin who actually understood me, who was in a similar situation and could have supported and encouraged me.

But I turned them away. I do not know why, I almost do not even know how I let myself do it. I knew that I was not becoming the person I wanted to, and yet I was unable to stop myself.

Was it because I still sought the acceptance of my sister and family? Perhaps because I didn't yet feel as though I was good enough for my idolized schoolmates? Or was it that I harbored a secret and dark desire for the confident power that I had seen in my sister? Did I want not only to be good enough for her, but to be able to feel for myself that surge of dangerously thrilling power that I had so often seen behind her eyes?

It could be argued a thousand ways, and I was still not able to come to my own conclusion. But whatever the answer was, the fact remained that there came the time when I pushed my limits. The time when I lost all control, and knew once and for all that I could not turn back. The time that I began to truly lose sight of myself.

I suppose that deep down I was always aware there would come a time when I would cross some kind of defining line and never be able to come back, but I never thought that it would happen like it did. I must have been expecting some fantastic display of power which would leave me as a glowing and untouchable new person. Unfortunately, that marvelous vision now seemed as far fetched to me as a small girl daydreaming of her prince coming to sweep her off of her feet and replace all her sorrows with a jovial little happily ever after. What I got instead was one of the most bitter and upsetting shocks that I had ever received, and one that I am not certain that I ever quite recovered from.

It did not even start out as the kind of day which would behold any kind of life changing occurrence. It actually started out much like any other unspectacular day in my life would have.

As always on Saturdays, I had slept in and taken my time with breakfast, not in any particular hurry to be anyplace and certainly not expecting much of an eventful day. I slowly made my way out onto the grounds where I quickly spotted Estrella and the rest of the gang.

They seemed to be very roused up about something and were all bursting in loud callous laughter. I hurried forward, eager to join in to whatever had stirred them all up. Reaching them, I looked around for some sign of the cause of it all, but saw nothing. "What's going on?" I asked loudly, trying to make my small voice heard above all of the noise, "What is going on?!"

It took some time, but they finally calmed down, at which point Estrella took up the task of filling me in on that morning's events. "Alright girl, you are going to love this, let me tell you. So you know Claude Richardson, right?"

"Of course."

Everybody knew Claude Richardson. He was a sixth year Slytherin who played on the house quidditch team and was more or less what one might call a "hunk." He had just about enough brains to keep himself on a broomstick, but hardly enough to get from one class to another without walking into something. Like most such dimwitted athletes, he was quite full of himself and under the impression that every girl that he bumped into wanted to get it on with him, as a number of them did. Those who did not know better may think of him as cool, but they would be very swiftly disappointed after spending three minutes in his presence. If he was involved in whatever this latest scandal had been, little doubt remained in my mind as to the nature of the story.

"Well," Estrella said, "It appears that our very own Richardson has gotten himself a little stalker… As a matter of fact, this little lady has been showing up to just about every one of the Slytherin team practices, hiding in the stands and hoping that he will fly close enough over her for her to get herself a nice glimpse."

The crowd laughed, but quickly quieted as Estrella went on. "Well it so seems that our little peek-a-boo girl wasn't satisfied in just sitting and watching. The poor girl felt so left out and wanted a little more, I daresay…"

There were low murmurs and exchanged smirks before she went on, "And so this morning the little girlie slipped out of her cozy common room and crept out here to where she somehow – don't ask me how – knew that her darling Claude takes his mourning runs. I don't know if she was just looking for a little chat or to see him topless, but she certainly got both… But not before we got here."

I stared at her with wide eyes as she finished her story, "I don't know what happened between the two of them, but she was certainly the biggest blubbering mess that I had ever seen! Honestly, you should have seen that girl… She looked terrified out of her skin as if her doomsday had come, and she tried her best to flee."

The crowd laughed raucously. "But we didn't let her get away so easily."

"You should have seen her whimpering!" Somebody shouted out.

"Crying to go home…"

"Back to her muggle home!"

"She was a mudblood?"

"I think she was… must have been."

"Oh, how very fitting!"

I stood there, my head turning from one person to the next as they shouted out with shrill laughter. I laughed a little myself, wanting to join in with their fun, but something seemed to hold me back. I think that I really knew that it was all very wrong, and it did greatly disturb me. I tried to pretend that it was not important and that it meant nothing. I was, of course, wrong.

I wanted it all to go away, but things only got worse. Much worse.

"That Richardson bloke may be an idiot, but he certain deserves better than that!"

"Yea, he sure does."

"Better than some wee little baby mudblood with an obsession with him!"

"Yea…"

"Are you guys thinking what I'm thinking?"

"I don't see why not…"

"We should give him somebody who is up to scratch!"

"But who would it be?"

As soon as I realized what was going on, I did my very best to make myself appear smaller, in attempt not to disappear, but it was to absolutely no avail.

I did not know why it had to be me, but in only a moment's time they hand picked me.

"Hey, what about her?" somebody called out, pointing suddenly towards me.

"Who?" Estrella demanded, and upon seeing me she brightened up, "Oh, of course – the sister of notorious Bellatrix Black herself! You'll do just fine… What did you say your name was, girlie?

"Andromeda." I said in a very small voice, trying to shut my eyes tight in hopes of blacking it all out.

"I think we have found the perfect girl!"

I opened my eyes very abruptly, hit wit the realization that nobody was going to fight this for me, "Oh no, I really don't think – " I began in a meager attempt to back out, "I would really rather not…" But my words were lost and left unheard by all.

Somebody gripped my wrist tightly, and they began pulling me away, "Come now – let's go find your darling Claude!"

I tried to pull away, but they did not let go. I tried to protest, but nobody heard. Nothing that I could do would stop them now. I could have still gotten out if I really tried, but that would mean defying them all, and I could not face what would happen if I lost the approval that I had worked so hard to gain.

I felt sure that there was no way out. I was again trapped by the fear of disappointing somebody who I couldn't bear to have look down at me, this time Estrella in the place of my sister. I didn't know where this would all lead me, I only knew that I could not fight it.

It did not find them long to hunt Richardson down, and as he drew into view the girls leading me along began to whisper advise at me.

"Stand up a little straighter."

"Flip your hair back… like this."

"Try not to talk too much."

"Here, roll up your skirt."

"That's right… he likes himself quite a bit of thigh."

"Take this jacket off as well – the more skin the better."

I gazed hopelessly around at them all, seeking a pitying face of somebody who could save me from this humiliation that I was to suffer. But there was nobody there.

"Hello Claudie!" Estrella's voice rang out, mockingly higher than usual, "We have brought you a little something… To make up for that awful disappointment of the mudblood this morning: a real girl!"

Richardson, who had been dully attempting to pretend not to notice us, perked up at once and looked eagerly around until his eyes fell on me, standing all alone in the center of the crowd who had shoved me forward unprotected.

I squirmed uncomfortably as I felt his eyes travel slowly all over me, and I somehow knew that his large, rough hands were aching to do just the same thing.

He licked his lips readily and said, "Brilliant – let's have her!"

I stepped back, alarmed, and said, "Oh no, I really don't think that…"

This time, with everybody focusing on me, I had a decent enough chance of having my voice heard. Just as I began to protest, however, another distraction approached.

Estrella was the first one to see, and called out at once, "Look everybody, the little girlie herself is coming! Quick… Get up there, Black!"

I had no opportunity at all to resist. Several people from behind me shoved me forward hard, right into the expectant arms of Claude, who wasted no time in entwining his bulky arms around me and shoving his very solid face against mine, forcing our lips into contact.

I had never kissed a boy before in my life, and had always thought that it would be a very fanciful experience, but not at all like this. He was solid and unyielding, and his grip was the most forceful thing that I had ever felt. I knew that if I tried to pull away it would be impossible to escape from his firm hold.

He broke his lips away from me momentarily, and I writhed as he moved his large hands along the crevices of my waist, exploring the curves of my body, but he would not let me go. I could feel the hot sting of his breath on my neck, and before I could even turn my face again, he had once again submerged himself in another fierce kiss, from which I could hardly retreat enough to breathe.

I don't know if I had ever felt so vulnerable in all of my life. I knew that he only had to decide it was what he wanted, and I could be at risk of losing my very virginity. I was partly relieved that there were so many people watching; I knew (or at lest I thought I knew) that they would not allow this to go that far.

For the first time it struck me just how many people there must have been watching. In addition to all of those who had brought me here, surely our huge display coupled with Claude's reputation would have drawn even more people. As if what I was doing wasn't awful enough, it was made that much worse by the awareness that they must all have been watching me.

I could also hear voices, voices which I had not noticed with the sudden shock of what was happening. I could not hear any distinct words, but I was aware of jeers from the crowd (probable towards the girl for whom this whole display was being made) and also cheers and cat calls (which I realized with an unpleasant jolt must be directed towards me).

I don't know exactly when, why, or how it happened, but there came a change over me. There was a place where I became aware that his harsh monotony of his kiss had broken, and was conquered by something that was being led by me. I knew that it could not truly be passion of any sort, but I felt definite surge of power radiating both from the kiss and myself.

He must have faltered in something like shock, because I felt a definite wavering of his force and I found myself surprisingly with the upper hand.

In that instant I knew exactly what I had been missing all of this time. It had nothing at all to do with any sort of romantic or sexual fulfillment as it might seem in the present situation. I knew what it was at once. It was that undeniable sort of power that I had so thirsted for for so long. It was what gave Bellatrix her flare for the thrill in life. It was what made Estrella walk with the confidence to make heads turn. And it was what I found myself possessed with, there entwined in the arms of this contemptible stranger.

It was the most amazing thing that I had ever experienced. It was confidence at its height; I felt as if I could do absolutely anything. I didn't know if it was an emotion or a feeling or some mad beast raging within me, but it possessed me fully and entirely for the time being. I was not aware if it would last forever after or would quickly fade, but it was there for the moment and I was going to take advantage of it for however long I could channel it, no matter where I was.

As it so happening that I was a tangled mess in Claude Richardson's brawny arms for who knew how long, I decided that I would have to take advantage of it right then and there.

I rose my arms up and wrapped them seductively around his neck. His unyielding hold upon me had by now relaxed, and instead of seizing my first opportunity to escape from him, I pulled myself closer to him, leaning in so close that I could almost feel his heart pounding against mine.

It was such an unwavering show of passion and fervor that I was certain that I had even him fooled. Here I was, a mere thirteen year old girl who had never so much laid a finger on a boy before, and I had one of the school's most illustrious studs within my clutches, and absolutely everybody knew it.

I pulled slowly away from him, not breaking my gaze for an instant, and very slowly ran my tongue over my lips. I could see the lust burning within his eyes, but I wasn't going to let him have what he wanted so badly and what he could have easily taken from me only minutes beforehand.

It felt absolutely amazing to be able to dangle myself before him like this, and yet for him not to be able to take me. The change that had taken place was absolute and unquestionable: I was the one in charge now.

Again, I became aware of the crowd surrounding us. The voices of those around us seemed to have been floating indecisively in and out of my mind for the past several minutes, fading slowly and then reappearing, but they were definitely there.

I turned slightly outwards to find everybody standing and cheering for me. I would ordinarily have felt ashamed, but this new energy which I found within myself seemed to feast and grow off of the attention that I was receiving from them all.

"Way to go, Black!"

"There is a caged beast that we never saw before… let it loose!"

"What about you, would you like to kiss the big, gorgeous, quidditch player?"

"I bet she would!"

"Come on little girlie, don't be shy… Let Andromeda here show you how easy it is!"

"Little girlie…"

It took me a moment to recall that the young girl who we were all doing so well at humiliating was there amongst them, but once I did it took me no time at all to spot her. I threw back my hair with harsh laughter, looked down, and was greeted with the biggest shock I could have received.

Standing there amidst all of the jeering Slytherins, her hair ruffled and tears flowing rapidly down her cheeks, stood none other than my very own dear Adriana Brown.

I was quite taken aback, and even then the full gravity of the situation did not hit me. I looked around anxiously, hoping to see something or someone who would tell me what to do, but all I saw was the crowd of jeering Slytherins and the glowing triumphant face of Estrella, and all that I felt were the greedily expectant hands of Richardson, waiting for me to indulge him once more.

I could see no way out, and if there was one I didn't have the strength or will to pursue it. Still filled with the same intoxicating fervor which had only slightly faltered within me with the shock of who I had betrayed, I did the thing that was easiest.

I forced myself to tear my gaze from the pitiable sight of Adriana, turned away, and flung myself full out back onto Claude, making an extremely flamboyant show of the kiss I now engaged in with him.

As I broke away this next time my eyes immediately sought out Adriana. As I had suspected, hoped, and feared, she was staring straight up at me with wide eyes and her mouth hanging open in shock. She had seen me look directly at her and fully knowingly turn away to him.

I felt like the worst possible human being on the planet, but I was still radiating with some kind of thrill that gripped me tight and wouldn't let me go. Deep down I knew that I wanted to cut it out or say something that would clear everything up, but the feeling had a firm grip on me stronger than Richardson's, possessing me entirely.

I looked straight at her and said in a voice of laugher laden with cruelty that I knew could not possibly be my own, "Your filthy blood would never be good enough for him! He wanted a real girl, and that is what he has got in me. Why don't you just go back to where you came from..."

I saw her then, plain and clear. I cannot even begin to explain the look on her face, but I knew for certain that it was one which I would never forget for as long as I was to live.

I hated myself for doing it, more than I had ever hated anyone or anything in the world. But even stronger than my self-loathing was my inability to let go, for I knew that the moment this burning passion that drove me vanished the entire world and all of its consequences would fall down on me, and it would not be pretty.

I know now that I was afraid. I was afraid to face what was to come, and knowing that I would have to do so sooner or later, I clung to the moment even more tightly. I continued kissing Claude, all the while hearing the jeers and taunts thrown at poor Adriana. I only broke away momentarily to see her let out a scream of anguish and scramble down the sloped hill, fleeing from us all as everybody laughed mercilessly, throwing torn up grass and dirt after her.

I stared after her momentarily with no expression upon my face, and then turned back to Claude and the immense cheers from the crowd surrounding us.


	10. My Goodbye

**Chapter Ten: My Goodbye**

* * *

As exhilarating as the Claude incident had been at the time, the initial invigorating effects quickly faded and were replaced with a number of very different feelings.

Of course I was hailed as a hero that day in the Slytherin common room and I fell asleep with an unfamiliar feeling of self-satisfaction. But when I woke in the morning it was all gone.

I was immediately struck with the overwhelming reality of what I had done. I did not recall the pleasure and confidence that had swept over me, but rather the vulnerability and discomfort of the monstrous Claude as he had rubbed me all over up and down and not let me go. Worst of all, I was haunted with the images of Adriana that still swam freshly before my eyes.

I must never have realized before just how much Adriana had meant to me, but I did then. I had been looking for so much since I had arrived at Hogwarts: Acceptance, my true self, some sort of mysterious power… I had never really found any of that, but the one thing that I had found without even looking was a friend.

And although I may not have fully realized it, Adriana truly had been a friend to me – perhaps the only true friend who I had ever really had. She had truly cared about me, had wanted the best for me, and was willing to do whatever it took to make sure that I got it.

And in a way she had also been a stranger. Friend though she may have been, the times that I saw her had grown increasingly rare, and whenever we met and were able to talk, it had always revolved around me. What did I know about her? What of her likes or her distastes? I didn't even know what made her laugh, what made her cry.

It was only then that I knew what I had missed. Of all of the things that I was missing in my life, the one that I never thought to desire was a friend.. Was it ironic then that it was the one thing that I had found? Or was it simply the greatest shame of my life that I had never taken advantage of her presence?

One thing was clear: Adriana meant a lot to me, and the only thing left for me to do was to swallow my pride and attempt to admit it all to her. I did not know how it would go down and I was frightened at the very prospect, but I knew it had to be done.

I spent the better part of that week trying to build up enough courage and find the right moment to face her. The more time that passes, the more I saw how long it would really take to build up that much courage. And when you have already set the heart and mind of someone you love against you, time is not a luxury you can afford to waste.

It was not easy to hunt her down. The Great Hall was much too crowded at mealtimes to spot her, and although I combed the library several times over, I still could not find a sign of her. I didn't know her schedule or her habits or anything. I had nothing to help find her except, of course, chance.

I had just come out of my final class when somewhat to my surprise I saw her trying to meekly get by a group of loud girls blocking the doorway of the Charms classroom. Within the time that it took her to slip out past them, I was able to glanced around to see who was about and hurry over to where she stood.

"Hey Adriana, we need to talk," I sputtered, as I came even with her.

She looked up expectantly, but upon seeing who it was, turned her face quickly away, "I… I need to go."

I reached out and grabbed her upper arm, nor permitting her to move, "I've been trying to find you all week, and now that you are here you are going to hear me out."

She narrowed her eyes. "I think that I already heard you out on Saturday," she said coolly, "You made yourself pretty clear."

The crowd of people in the hallway was now beginning to thin. Everybody was heading out to the grounds to relax or the common rooms to study, and we were the only two left standing still.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I snapped.

She would not look at me, but recited quite plainly with her eyes fixed on the stone wall past my shoulder, "Your filthy blood would never be good enough… why don't you just go back to where you came from?'"

I stared at her for a moment, slightly surprised with the force with which she had spoken those words. With a sickening feeling in my stomach I wondered if it was possible that she had been haunted by the memory of my words all week as much as I had been haunted by the memory of that expression on her face.

"Now how about you let go of my arm?" she demanded coldly.

Once again I was alarmed at the force behind her words. I had never known her to speak like this, and it didn't seem at all like the sweet and innocent girl I thought I knew. I realized unpleasantly that this must have been more or less how she herself had felt about me the weekend before.

I gave her a curious look but released her arm, which she dropped to her side and rubbed soothingly. "So? Care to spit it out so I can get on with my day?" I had never received so much negative energy from her, and was still quite taken aback by it.

"Oh…" I said, "Well, it was about what happened on Saturday – I just wanted to…" I faltered. I had spent so much time building up to this and trying to find Adriana to be able to say this to her, but now I realized that I didn't know what to say. "I just wanted to… You know, to like – "

"…to apologize?" she said coldly, trying to complete the sentence for me.

"Oh no," I said quickly, "Not that."

"What?" she asked sharply.

"Not so much to apologize, as to… well, make it right."

I was certain that I didn't know what I was doing and I knew that I was going about the whole thing entirely wrong, and Adriana knew this even more certainly than I did.

"So you mean to make everything right, but not apologize?" she asked slowly, "Oh, well that makes all of the sense in the world, not to mention makes me feel loads better. I can see just how important this all is to you."

"That's not what I meant." I said quietly.

"Oh, really?" She asked, "Because it is most certainly what you said… I don't know, maybe I have been wrong about you all along."

It was beyond disturbing to see so much disgust coming from such a dear girl who I knew would never speak a word against someone she cared about. And it was all because of me. I was not one to be self centered in the least, but this was a special situation. This sudden change in her was towards me alone and because of me alone. I had brought it about and now I was left to reap the rewards.

I knew that this whole thing could easily go very wrong and was already headed in a bad direction, but I had to fix it. "I made a mistake," I said quietly, trying to remain composed and show her that I was acting out of sincerity and remorse.

I glanced up at her, but she was saying nothing, only waiting for me to go on, arms crossed.

I took a deep breath and said "I didn't realize that you were involved. If I had then I would never have done it. I… I would never do something like that to you deliberately."

I searched her face, but no ounce of her usual sweet and forgiving nature showed through. Instead she asked me callously, "But you would have done it had it been any other girl then, would you?"

I felt sure that I was being swiftly backed into a corner, "I don't know…" I tried, "Well, maybe – but… I don't think so. But you just don't know…"

"But I do know. You were willing to do it Saturday without knowing what would happen or who you would hurt. It just happened to be me, but wouldn't you do it again?"

I tried to protest, "No… I never said that I would! And anyway, this weekend was different. They all made me do it – do you think that I had a choice? Do you think that I wanted him to… to violate me like that?"

"Maybe not," she said in consideration. "But then again, by the time that I showed up you certainly seemed to be choosing it. Oh, and incidentally – by then I am pretty sure you should have known just who you were hurting."

Standing there, listening to her, I had begun to lose grasp of my own sense of self-righteousness which had been so strong beforehand. In fact, I knew that she was right. She knew just as well as I did that, although I was forced into it initially, ultimately I became totally in control, and of nothing more than what I had said to her. I had no defense.

"Why does it matter so much to you anyway?" I demanded, feeling myself grow more and more defensive.

"'Why does it matter!?'" she cried incredulously, "It matters because I thought that you were my friend! Because I thought that we cared about each other and would never hurt each other… I obviously thought wrong – because now I see the truth."

I let out a harsh laughed, "Oh yea? And what is that?" I wanted it to look like whatever she said couldn't make the slightest of differences to me, but inside I was trembling for what she was about to say to me.

"The truth… the truth is that you simply don't care. I always thought that all of this was so that you could 'find yourself,' but you seem to be going out of your way to lose yourself! You care so much about being like Bellatrix that you don't even see what a wonderful person you could be… You are chasing after something that can never be yours and you are destroying everything good inside you as payment. And all for some stupid sister who doesn't even care about you!"

At this I really lost control. I had never been truly violent before, but upon hearing that I raised my arm and struck her hard across the face, making her fall back, whimpering in both physical and internal pain, "Don't you dare talk about my sister like that!" I cried with a fury I could not control.

Clutching one hand hard to the side of her face, she said pleadingly from the ground, "But don't you see? That is exactly what this is…"

I turned my back on her. I could not listen to her. I could not even look at her as she sat collapsed on the floor, leaning on her arms and looking up at me with begging eyes. Not trying to escape, not crying in pain, but still trying to reach out to me. Seeing her like this told me that, no matter what the situation, she really did want to help. And I hated her for it. Because I knew that no matter how hard either of us tried, there was no longer any point.

I wondered if she felt it as well. I was almost sure that she did. We stood there staring at each other for a long time, wondering what had happened to each of us since we had first met on that train ride. We could have been the best of friends. We could have helped each other through the worst of times. We could have stayed with one another forever. But instead we were here.

"I never meant to hurt you," I said quietly at long last, immersed in the deepest sort of shame.

She dropped her head, and I had the heart-wrenching impression that tears were beginning to build up within her, "Yea, well… you did."

I don't know how, but somehow I knew then that we had nothing left to say to each other, and I was certain that we never would again.

I turned away, pausing for a moment to look down at her figure huddled on the ground and said quietly, "Goodbye… friend."

It was the most permanent thing I had ever said.

Without so much as waiting for a response, I turned away and walked swiftly off, leaving her, the best source of goodness that I had ever known, behind and out of my life and heart forever.


	11. My Surrender

**Chapter Six: My Acceptance**

* * *

That summer I went home feeling like a defeated warrior, having marched off to battle with enthusiastic passion of the highest variety, only to return with crushed hopes and spirits.

I was disappointed and disillusioned and as early as that, I felt certain that things could not get worse. But I was wrong. While I had been away, my mother had fallen ill. I did not know what was the matter with her or if anybody did. But something was definitely wrong, and the very knowledge of it lived within the walls of the home I once again found myself confined to.

There was a sickly chill that seemed to fall over the whole house that I was sure could not have been there before. It numbed me like a deep sting, overwhelming me with this feeling that I was not even at home here, in my own home. I was lost. I walked idly throughout the large rooms with nothing to do but listen to the distant echoes of my footsteps calling back to me from the cold unfeeling walls.

Narcissa seemed to shrink that summer. Her glowing presence filled less and less of the house and she somehow seemed weaker than ever before. I would have liked to comfort her in some way, but I could think of nothing to say. I had always loved the dear girl and protected her just as the rest of the family had, but the two of us were hardly close and there just didn't seem to be anything that I could do.

I wondered vaguely why we were all so heavily affected by Mother's illness. She had always been distant at best, so what difference could it make if she was gone altogether? Would we really care at all if just she went away and never came back? To our own surprises, we must have.

But Mother's illness was not what made the summer slow and torturous for me. My real torture came from another member of my family who I had looked up to with so much admiration and awe for all of my life.

Yes, Bellatrix.

Bella was the only one who this turn of events didn't seem to affect.. She simply went on with her life as if there was nothing out of the ordinary. Sometimes I wondered if she realized that mother was dying, or if she could feel the change that was eating at the rest of us. If she did, she managed not to show the slightest sign of it.

I wished I could be as indifferent as her. I did not want to have to feel these awful things and now know why. I wanted to be like her. But it was useless. The gap between us was growing wider and wider all the time.

She had hardly spoken to me since we had returned from Hogwarts together, and I could not imagine what I had done to deserve such cold treatment. She had always placed herself above me, which I could accept to an extent. But now she seemed to ignore my very existence, and when she did acknowledge me, it was with a discernable level of contempt.

I wanted to know what I had done wrong so that I could set it right. I hated feeling that I was a disappointment, especially to her. It is the worst feeling in the world when somebody who you idolize treats you as if you like a waste of space. I have learned this many times over, and it has only served to deepen the consuming sense I had growing within me that I simply did not belong.

I hoped, whatever her reason was for shoving me aside in this way, that someday it would pass and that deep down she really did care for me. I had to keep telling myself this, though even then I was not sure if I could really believe it. Even if it was a lie, it was a lie I had to keep telling myself.

No longer filled with false dreams of what Hogwarts held for me, this summer I did not count down the days until I would return, did not pack and repack my trunk every night as if I would be leaving the next morning, and I did not model my robes on myself as I had done the year before. What I did do was slowly come to realize that I actually dreaded the day when I would have to leave my secluded world to return to Hogwarts - the once mystical place where I now knew that I scarcely belonged.

But the summer could not last forever. In fact, it felt as if it could be the shortest one that I had ever experienced. All too soon September had arrived again and I found myself standing at the train station with Bellatrix.

This time father had not come to see us off. This time nobody scowled at me for my youthful fascination. This time I had no glow in my eyes, no eager anticipation for what was to come. This time I like nothing… It all felt like nothing.

I dragged my trunk onboard, found a compartment, settled myself in, and waited for somebody else to join me. It occurred to me that I was reliving all the same movements and actions as the previous year, only in an entirely different body. And this year none of it held any meaning for me.

Not long afterwards a young boy joined me. He was a first year, and was so excited that he looked as if he might fall off of his seat at the drop of a pin. I glared at him in disgust and buried my head in my arm against the window, pretending to fall asleep, and spent the rest of the journey focusing the entirety of my thoughts on how much I despised the little demon.

We arrived at Hogwarts, the new students were sorted, and my second year began. The whole time all that was on my mind was how much I wished it could be summer and I could get myself away from all this again. Even the awful isolation of home had to be better than the inevitable disappointment that I would find here.

I felt more sour and bitter than I could ever recall feeling. Nothing was real to me, and I wanted everything to disappear and to be left leave me alone.

But no matter how much I tried, even if I were to curl up in a corner and scream until I could hear nothing else, the world would still be there, waiting only moments away, ready to remind me of all that I was not. The only thing that I could do was to swallow my pride and face it. I certainly was not willing, but it seemed that I had no other choice. In a place where there is so much going on everywhere that you look, it is impossible to hide yourself away undisturbed.

I slowly and begrudgingly began to come out of the shell that I had lived in throughout the recent months, and tried to move on. It was certainly not easy, but I did find that the world was still out there.

I got through those early weeks simply by concentrating on my schoolwork. I had never been the clever type, but academics were at least something to focus on. As time went on, however, I found that it was not quite as difficult as before to sit with my head up at meals instead of staring intently at my fork and pretending that I did not exist. I even started to take time for a stroll or two across the grounds and was actually occasionally able to appreciate a nice day when I saw one.

My most paining regret remained that I still did not belong anywhere. No matter how much my state "improved," I couldn't ignore the fact that I was as evidently friendless as ever before.

My mind wandered back to Estrella and her crowd. I did not idolize them with the same unreserved devotion as I had before, but I still looked up to them, knowing that they had everything I did not. They were worth something; I was not. But what if I did become one of them, like I had dreamed before? But no. It was hopeless. I shouldn't even try. I knew this, and yet once the idea gripped my head I could not hide from it.

I again began to pine for acceptance from these fellow students of mine. But just as this year my eagerness to attend Hogwarts had not matched that of the previous year, the enthusiasm of my new attempts to be accepted did not reach previous levels either. However surprisingly, this time around they were not in vain.

I had long since realized that simply hanging around could never catch anyone's attention or gain me any real credit. Instead it became clear that I would have to do something extraordinary to prove myself.

I began to devise a plan. I didn't know what would be enough to really impress them, but I reasoned that if my first attempt was not good enough for them, I would think of something else and then something else until I finally caught myself some sort of attention.

And so it was that late one night I crept out of the common room after hours and onto the grounds. I had confidence that I would not be caught. I had seen several other students do the same thing, and with the Slytherin common room so close to the entrance hall, it was relatively simple to slip out undetected.

Once I was outside it was only a matter of finding the correct greenhouse and getting inside under the moonlight. I had never been in this greenhouse before, but I knew what I was looking for. After some minutes of carefully wading through the dark plants I managed to find what I was after, and saw with relief that I wouldn't even have to do any extraction myself – there were already a few small tubfuls perched beneath the workbench. I carefully took what I needed and was able to get back to my dormitory with ease where I stored the stuff under my bed for the next day.

The rest of my scheme depended primarily on improvisation and I knew could play out many different ways, but it was up to me to find the way that would make enough of a scene for Estrella would notice, as well as making my role clear. All of course while, preferably, not getting me into too much trouble. I knew that I was asking quite a lot, but if it all worked out then it would surely be worth it.

That afternoon I walked out onto the grounds without even a clear picture of what exactly I was going to do. All that I knew was that the time had come and I wouldn't let myself back out now.

I sat near the lake with my homework sitting in front of me, although I did not bother to even carry out the pretense of focusing on it. My hand was instinctively resting on the flap on my handbag, under which sat the small jar, waiting for use.

My eyes were fixed on the door of the castle, counting down the moments until I knew Estrella would come out at the usual time, accompanied by the usual group. I wanted to put my plan into action as soon as they reached the grounds, or else I feared they would be lost to some greater distraction and it would all be for naught.

Finally they came. They sat themselves down not too far away and began shouting playfully amongst each other. Telling myself that it had to be now or never, I hastily transferred the ooze-filled jar into the pocket of my robes and stood up, steadying myself.

I walked, not knowing exactly what my destination was. I knew that I had to stay within their view, but there was one more thing: I had to find a victim.

I had never done this kind of thing before, but I had learned enough from Bella to know that finding the right victim was essential. Not being much of bully myself, I clearly saw the need to find somebody who would be able to be tread over easily. And it did not take long at all.

Moments later, my eyes fell upon the tiny boy whom had been such an annoyance when we had shared a compartment on the train. He was sitting all by himself and gave a noticeable shudder as he eyed the Great Lake nervously. I could see clearly that he would be the easiest target around.

I took a deep breath and strode straight towards him, hoping with every fiber of my body that something would come out of my mouth once I got there. I knew what my end objective for this afternoon was; I just hoped that I was able to get there.

Before I had time for a single remark to even form within my mind, I was standing there with my shadow looming over him. He didn't look up at me, but I was certain that he knew I was there, as he had drawn his arms around himself in the apparent attempt to make himself disappear.

I prodded him hard with my foot, "Hey what's wrong with you kid?" I demanded. He didn't make a sound. I jabbed my foot into his side again belligerently, "What are you afraid of – I'm not going to hurt you."

He still did not look up at me, and I turned towards some of the students sitting nearby, "Hey everybody – check this out!" I shouted, "This little baby's afraid to talk to me…" I attempted to drown the nervousness I felt within me with the false confidence of a callous laugh. "I bet he just wants to go home and curl up with his Mommy and have a good cry, doesn't he?" I taunted, "Would that make you feel better, baby? Could Mommy save you from the big mean kids?"

I reached my arm out to grab him by his shoulder and pull him up from the ground, but he felt the malignance of my approach and skirted away with a little squeal.

I gave a very pronounced laugh at this and so did a few others, for a small crowd had begun to grow around us by this time, giving the boy no place to escape to. For a moment he attempted to run one direction and then another, only to find that there was not a single sympathetic face in any direction.

I took advantage of this momentary distraction and lunged towards his things. He had his schoolbag, a few books, and… ah yes, a jacket! I worked quickly, and moments later I was back on my feet, ready to continue mocking him.

He was cowering in a heap when I found him, and again I turned to the small crowd that had gathered, "I have never seen such a little wimp," I cried with a laugh, "I bet he can't even do proper magic… He is probably afraid of his own wand!"

The crowd let out a collective burst of laughter, and I decided that I had as much attention from them as I was going to get, and I could only hope that Estrella and her gang were watching as well.

I grabbed him by his shoulders and steered him back to where he had sat before, finding that he had no strength left in him with which to resist me.

Adopting a very obvious mocking voice I said, "Aww… I feel bad for the little baby now. Nobody cares about him and all he can do is cry. Here, let Mommy Black dry your little baby tears. That's right… now take your bag… and your books… and your coat…"

He showed no attempt to resist me, and suffered this humiliation as the crowd around us laughed and jeered. His head hung low in disgrace, letting me drape his bag over his shoulders, and then shove the pile of books into his arms, and then to carefully bring the sleeves of his jacket up over his bare arms.

Almost immediately he let out a howl and the books fell from his arms and scattered over the ground at his feet. For a moment everybody fell silent and froze, stunned. But then, seeing him hop around in a mad attempt to tear his jacket from his arms as the strange yellowish-green liquid seeped out over his skin, the crowd burst into hysterical laughter, watching him make such an utter fool of himself.

Somehow he must have finally managed to get the jacket off and dodge through the roaring crowd. I was too preoccupied to notice anything but his tiny figure bolting up the hill to the castle in a frenzy. The crowd remained in its ecstatic state and I was applauded and congratulated for livening up a dull Saturday afternoon.

"That was absolutely hilarious!"

"Way to go…"

"Did you see that kid? He looked like he really was going to run crying to his Mommy!"

Finally Estrella and her friends broke through the crowd. So they had seen. I held my breath as if my judgment day had come. But there was no need to be nervous. They seemed as entertained as everybody else.

"Sweet job kid!"

"That was absolutely priceless!"

One of the older boys squatted down by the spot where the jacket had fallen and inspected the residue of liquid left behind. "Bubotuber pus? Nice work."

"What?" I said faintly, my eyes widening, "No, I didn't really… It wasn't supposed to be –"

"Oh, now don't you try to back out of it. We all saw what you did, and you have every right to take credit for it."

"Oh no, but I didn't really mean…"

But I trailed off as Estrella herself stepped forward and looked me over with an appraising eye. "I've seen you around, kid… What's your name?"

I swallowed, "Andromeda Black, and I just want to say that I didn't really–"

But she cut me short, "Black… Black? You haven't got a sister, have you?" I nodded. "Well I'll be. Hey everybody, check it out… The very flesh and blood of Bellatrix Black right before our very eyes."

"You… you know her?" I asked.

"Oh yeah, I know her. You might say that she thinks that I am a bit… amateur, I suppose you would say… But that just goes to show, doesn't it?"

"Oh… Yeah. I suppose it does, doesn't it?" I said weakly, not entirely sure what I was agreeing with,

But it made no difference. Estrella grinned down at me and clamped a hand on my shoulder, "You're all right kid, you know that? Come on along with us…"

And so that was that. As simple as that Estrella put her arm around me and drew me into her circle, and everything was made right.

Again, I was wrong. I had figured that everything would be set right when I became one of them, but life simply could not be that simple. Ever since that afternoon, the face of that frightened little boy haunted me. I hadn't really meant to hurt him – just give him a good scare. But by making a mistake and using the wrong substance, I caused him unnecessary pain, and every shriek he had let out seemed to echo in my mind with heightened gravity.

I felt disgraced. Was it really necessary for me to sink to this level, just so that I could feel that I belonged someplace? And then another doubt began to appear within my mind: what if I did not belong with them at all? If this was what I had to do just to get them to notice me, then who knew what they would expect from me in the future?

What bothered me even more was that still Bellatrix did not pay the slightest bit of attention to me. I had hoped that perhaps if these people could approve of me, then she could as well. But I was wrong. I remembered what Estrella had said about Bellatrix looking upon her as an amateur, and I wondered if that was true. Did she simply see me as too silly and juvenile to be taken seriously as well?

I felt betrayed. I was uncertain by whom, but I knew that there had to be somebody to blame. Somebody had given me all of these false hopes and ideas only to snatch away my dreams from me moments later. Somebody had wanted to trick me and watch me fall and suffer. Somebody…

The fact of the matter was that I did not know the first thing about what I was doing.

I was following these people blindly with no alternative. Where they would lead me, I did not know. I knew that it did not feel entirely right, but I had no way to fight it, nowhere else to turn.

As lost and uncertain as I felt on the inside, my outer self never made any attempt to hold back or do anything to object. I continued to play along with them, in hopes that I could convince myself that I wasn't really alone, that everything would begin to fall into place in time.

It never did.


	12. My Seclusion

**Chapter Twelve: My Seclusion**

* * *

In many ways that really was the end of it all for me. I had been fighting a losing battle, trying to keep my head above raging waters, and I finally saw that I had never stood a chance. All of my childish fantasies looked like utter foolishness and one by one I began to let go over the dreams that bound me to who I was.

For one of the first times in my life, I realized that I needed somebody. But not like before, when I had sought acceptance from somebody more impressive and powerful than myself. This was quite different. What I needed now was somebody to hold me close and tell me that everything would be all right. But I knew that no matter how hard I looked, this person did not exist. Not for me.

My parents were definitely out of the question. My mother, though it hardly made a difference, was dead and therefore no use. My father would be equally useless. He met his responsibility to me by paying for school and the other seemingly endless expenses of raising a child. For me to expect anything else from him would be out of the question.

It was almost laughable to even consider Bellatrix. Going to her now would accomplish nothing short of getting spit in my face.

Narcissa, who was now at Hogwarts, was not much of an option either. I did of course adore her just as much as everybody else and would have instantly put myself between her and harm's way. This did not, however, turn out to be basis enough for a solid relationship between two sisters. We had never really been very close, and going to her would be very awkward for me and would accomplish nothing.

My heart ached a little as I thought of the one person who really would have been able to help: Adriana. She may not have been able to make everything right in a wink, but having her unyielding support on my side would have meant the world to me. But it hurt too much to even think about her. I knew that it was entirely my fault that we were split apart from each other, and that if I let her she would have labored endlessly to fix the mess I had made. But I hadn't given her the chance, too bound by my own pride even to apologize. I tried to force these thoughts from my mind, but they were always lingering in the peripheral, waiting to attack my conscience at a moment's notice.

It came as quite the revelation to at last realize that I really was alone. Thinking back, I know that I had been alone long before the idea first struck me, but this did not help the hopelessness that came with this realization.

Alone. It felt so dismal and hopeless, even overwhelmingly permanent. They say that you never really appreciate something until you lose it. Well, I learned that you never know how much you need somebody who cares about you until you have driven them all away.

Actually, the feeling of loneliness was not what bothered me the most. It was really the idea of it that got to me. It was gloomy to be miserable and all, but in many ways that feeling was something that I had long since grown used to.

But actually knowing I was alone in the world… now that I couldn't stand.. I had never really thought that I needed somebody else to depend on, but now I was greatly affected by the knowledge that, if I ever decided that I did need somebody, there would be nobody there.

Then came the doubts. I looked around myself and saw everybody who passed me was happy, or at very least had somebody who they could turn to when things went wrong. There was nobody suffering and abandoned like me. I wondered why I was being punished like this, and that led me to the awful certainty that, whatever came to me, I deserved.

And that was exactly it. I deserved to be alone. I was not meant to have anybody to confide in or to care about me.

I began to take steps of my own to make sure that I was getting whatever punishment that I deserved. I stopped hanging around Estrella and her gang. I stopped hanging around anyone at all. When not in classes or at a brief meal during which I sat alone, I would confine myself to my dormitory, sitting in silence on my bed. I completely isolated myself from the world, making myself even more secluded than little Narcissa, who took such elaborate steps to keep herself protected.

Believe it or not, I adapted very easily to this new lifestyle. I found that I was very rarely tempted to join in with the social world around me, and not a single person seemed to really notice or care about my strange new seclusion.

I was almost relieved not to deal with as much every day. I had never really done that well around people, and I had about grown tired of trying to put on a show of being somebody who I was pretty sure that I was not.

The days flowed quietly into weeks and after that into uneventful months. I didn't even regret my austere existence, and was pleased to be free of the less pleasant aspects of day-to-day life.

The rest of my third year passed in peaceful personal harmony. It was soon followed by my fourth year, and not long after that my fifth year joined it. By the time I was sixteen my isolation had become so second nature that I didn't need to give it a second thought. I was fool enough to think that I had become secure enough that nothing would change if I began to slowly let down the guard of the stringent walls that isolated.

But of course, if you remove just one brick, the whole wall is liable to come tumbling down.


	13. My Love

**Chapter Thirteen: My Love**

* * *

I had grown so adept at blocking out all real contact with the outside world that I felt confident that nothing would ever be able to penetrate my isolating boundaries. As much comfort as I found in this, the dullness of such a life had a way of growing overwhelming.

After confining myself to the dormitories for so long, I began to grow tired of the monotony of my surroundings. It was a big step for me, but I finally convinced myself that no harm could come from simply venturing out for some fresh air and a slight change of atmosphere. I figured that, as nobody had penetrated my private sphere of life all this time, nobody would make the effort to bother with me now.

And I was quite right. It took a lot of guts, but one day I finally stepped out of the castle and found myself again exploring the grounds which had once been such a warm and familiar comfort.

It didn't take long for me to find a comfortable little spot perched on a quiet hill that allowed a full view of everything that there was to be seen. I decided that this would be my new spot. Just as I had isolated myself within my dormitory, I could as easily do the same here, and with a better view. And so I did. I would still spend much of my time alone in the dormitory, but it rapidly became routine for me to visit my spot on the hill for a small portion of each day.

I was surprised at how pleasant it was to sit on my little hill and feel the smooth feel of wet grass beneath my fingers as I watched everybody go to and fro. My naturally fair skin had grown accustomed to life in the dungeons and the strange sensation of the sun penetrating my outer shell was one that I never learned to like, but did grow used to.

What I did particularly enjoy was dedicating hours to the observance of all the other students who spent their afternoons on the school grounds. I had no desire to interact with my peers on an immediate level, but watching them all from this objective point of view was both enlightening and entertaining.

Some of the people I recognized from classes and the days before my self-imposed seclusion. There was a boy who used to be in Estrella's group who could now be seen romping around with some of the boys from the quidditch team (Claude Richardson had since graduated, much to the surprise of a number of staff and students alike), a girl who once had sat by me in Charms would take lengthy walks holding hands with her boyfriend, and two kids whom I did not recall how I knew would appear at the great doors to the castle every day about half an hour after classes, glance around, and return to the castle.

There were also many others whom I had never met, but I now watched constantly, learning their patterns, their friends, their tastes in clothes… all from sitting on that little hill and watching them go about their lives.

I had never meant to let it happen, but somewhere along the line I began to wonder. I wondered how it was possible for these people to go about their lives without knowing how good they had it. I wondered what it would be like to live the kind of life where you could get immeasurably upset by some petty concern, and moments later feel as if you can fly with jubilation due to another insignificant event. It seemed like a ridiculous existence, and yet there where times when I could not help but feel a little bit jealous of these people.

The ones that really bothered me though, were the ones who I had known before. They all seemed so different from what I remembered. They had all changed, all grown, while I had remained the same, unaltered. Sure, I suppose that I had changed. This strange state which I was currently in was certainly quite different from how I had behaved when I had arrived at Hogwarts for the very first time. But while they prospered and developed, I remained stagnant, caught in my own trap.

Sometimes my desire to be like them was so overwhelming that I could hardly bear it. There were times when all I wanted was to give up altogether the austerity of my life and run down and join them in their seemingly carefree world. I knew exactly how I would do it, what choices I would make, who I would befriend and everything.

As blissful as these imaginings seemed, it never took long for the shame to set in, leading me to shut myself up in my dormitory for another week or so until my mind cleared. Only then would I allow myself to sneak out and watch the world I loved from a safe and, of course, uninvolved distance.

As time went on, I was surprised to find that there was somebody who I watched more than anybody else. At first I did not realize that I had taken a fancy to him, but I soon found myself sitting atop my hill and staring at nothing but him, often without even realizing it.

Although I did not allow the thought to cross my conscious mind, deep down I knew that he was simply the most gorgeous boy that I had ever laid eyes on. He had the most beautiful dark blonde hair in the world which swept naturally towards the back of his head, never falling upon his face to mask his well defined facial features. He had brown eyes and, although I only ever saw them from a distance, I could imagine their sweet chocolatey swirl in my mind's eye any day. He also had the most finely tuned and distinguished physique I had ever seen, and if I closed my eyes I felt sure that I could almost feel his firm muscles beneath my fingers.

Surprisingly, unlike all of the others whom I had watched previously, I never once had any sort of yearning to leap out of my spot on the hill and into his strong, sheltering arms. Of course I knew it would be the most blissful fantasy conceivable, yet I was never tempted to make my dreams a reality. Somehow it was enough for me just to sit and watch him from afar. It never once pained me that he wasn't my own, for I think that something inside of me knew that all I had to do was wait, and my fantasy could become reality.

And in a way he was my own. I began to spend longer hours on that hill to watch him, and I memorized every possible detail of his life that there was to know. I knew absolutely everything about him. Well, almost everything. Everything except for his name. Ironic, isn't it? But, unlike all of the others who watched, instead of yearning to know them and to be part of their lives, I felt that I really did know him, that I was already a part of his life. It never occurred to me that his world would quite simply and indifferently keep on turning without me in it, and yet I was sure that he must depend on me somehow – I was like his guardian angel, always watching and always caring.

I don't know when I realized that I must love him. I suppose one day the thought simply appeared, and it felt natural. I think that I must have subconsciously been thinking it for some time, and so when I finally realized it, it came as no major revelation.

From then on I really did believe that I loved him. It felt very strange, as I could not recall feeling anything emotional for a boy since before the incident with Claude Richardson, and yet I was sure that it must be love. I began to ponder my own interpretation of the concept of love and found that I was surprisingly naïve, even for a sixteen year old girl.

And then, before I could make sense of any of it, he was taken from me. Just like that. I had thought that he would always be there and that one day, when I was ready, he would be there for me and waiting for us to live happily ever after together. But apparently it was not meant to be, because one day he was there and the next he wasn't. Actually, it wasn't that simple. If it was, then it may have been much less painful for me. But no, I had to experience it, and in the worst way possible – watching, and unable to do a single thing about it.

Even when trying to live a life of stringent seclusion, there comes a time when anyone has got to get away, and the same was true for me. There were times when, trapped in a life where I was limited to nothing but classes, mealtimes, my dormitory, and a small spot on a hill, I truly felt as if I might go mad, which was not something that I wouldn't put past myself.

At these times I would be overwhelmed by the need to escape, and the easiest and most relieving way to escape an existence of living in strictness was to break a few rules. Not my own rules of course, but the rules for those who I didn't care for. I would deliberately break just about any rule I could find, most often those put in place by the school. This night in particular I had decided to sneak out of the Slytherin common room and prowl about the castle, just for the hell of it.

I had stopped for a while on the fourth floor and, and because I knew that I would never have been allowed to do it had anyone else been present, I climbed carefully onto the desks and walked back and forth from one to another, having to stretch my legs extra far in order to clear the isles between desks. I got my childish glory from it simply because I could and, after making sure that I had stepped on each desktop at least twice, I sat down on top of one of the desks and stared idly out of the window.

It was a relatively calm night – clear and silent. I remember that as I saw the very long, narrow shadows cast by the towers of the castle stretching all the way to the trees of the forbidden forest I thought that it was just the kind of night on which something eerie or alarming might happen. If I had thought that there was any possibility that my thoughts would cause the events of the night, then I would have taken it back immediately and denied ever having thought such a thing. But I did not know, and nothing that I do can change what happened that night.

As I sat on that desk I became aware of movement along one of the elongated shadows that littered the ground below. Curious, I slid down and walked cautiously over to the window, staring uncertainly down at the grounds. Unable to spot anything out of the ordinary, I was about to assume that it had just been a trick of my eyes in the night when I saw it again.

A single file line made up of mostly what looked like half a dozen or so male students my age and older was marching slowly and steadily in the direction of the forbidden forest. They reminded me of a black cat in the night, completely undetectable unless you already know that it is there. I kept my eyes fixed on them, afraid that I would lose them into the darkness of night.

I had expected them to continue marching right into the forbidden forest, and so I was astonished to see the entire group stop just short of it. Not only did they not enter the forest, but they formed a perfect circle and sat down, as if for a meeting. This only heightened my curiosity. What kind of a group met only in secret in the dead of night? I had never seen anything of the sort at Hogwarts, and could recognize none of them except for…

I knew it even before I thought of him. I had felt an unmistakable tingling sensation flow throughout me as they had walked out and realized it must have been my inner awareness that he was present. Now that I looked closely, I could just barely make him out. No light fell upon the strange group, but I had grown so familiar with his every movement and the exact shape and size of his silhouette that I knew I'd recognize him anywhere.

I stared most curiously down at this most peculiar of groups. It did seem that they must be a club or organization of sorts, and if I looked very carefully I could tell that they were speaking. I squinted out the window, trying to decipher the nature of their discussion, but was too far away to guess.

I settled myself into a position leaning against the windowsill, preparing myself to stand sentry for some time. I wanted to be there to see exactly what these students did. I did not much expect to see anything more exciting than for them to finish their meeting and be return to the castle. That was undoubtedly the plan, but things that night clearly did not go as intended for all concerned.

I was more surprised than my casual stance betrayed at seeing him down there. I had convinced myself that I knew every notable fact of his life that there was to know (except for his name, of course), and this idea that he had mysteries that I could not quite understand did not sit well with me.

The meeting went on for some time, and I had to fight off my own drowsiness, but I wouldn't allow myself to leave this post just to get some rest – what good would sleep do me anyway, and what was more important than getting to the bottom of his mystery?

The meeting did finally come to an end, but I do not believe that it did formally, and what ensued was quite a disturbance that I could not have foreseen. One of the members of the circle stood up out of what looked like protest and began to shout. I did my best to strain my ears, but I could not hear from this great of a distance, and was left to stare as he waved his arms furiously at the rest of the group.

I speculated the nature of his objections, but without knowing what the meeting and group was about, it was impossible could tell. All that I could do was watch as the scene unfolded before my eyes.

The boy stood for a little over a minute seemingly voicing him objections at the group until they seemed to decide that they had taken enough, and a several other members jumped to their feet, apparently in outrage at his words.

I was slightly taken aback as I saw the first boy draw his wand and brandish it. Just how serious was this? I glanced around the rest of the grounds, but they were completely deserted except for the group at the border of the forest.

When I looked back at them, it was to see that the circle had broken and a number of others had taken out their wands and were holding them readily aloft. I leaned slightly forward in attempt to take in the entire scene, and, just as I had suspected, chaos broke out moments later.

I think that somebody must have tried to flee, I couldn't tell if it was the man who had first stood or one of the others, and was soon thrown a badly aimed stunning spell, to which he returned a curse of his own over his shoulder. Soon it was impossible to tell who was fighting who, and the grounds were filled with flashes of light and furious cries.

My eyes grew wide at the sight of it all, and I was uncertain what to do. I wondered if the commotion would attract somebody who could help, or if it only seemed so severe because I was directly witnessing it.

I don't know for how long the fighting went on, but I was so absorbed in the scene that I felt as if I was actually there throwing spells as well in attempt to escape the unclear threat.

With a jolt I remembered that he was in this mess someplace and I squinted my eyes, actually pressing my face directly against the glass of the window to try and spot him.

I did find him alright, and just in time by the looks of it. He was scrambling from the ground where he seemed to have fallen, and began to run straight at the boy whom I recognized as the one who had started the whole thing. He was charging right at him and, seemingly forgetting his wand, tackled him, pinning him to the ground with great force.

Everybody else seemed to have frozen, and they were all staring intently at the pair on the ground. More than ever I ached to know what this was all about, so much that I somehow missed what happened next and could only guess. They seemed to be speaking very rapidly to each other, perhaps shouting, and a moment later there was the most overwhelmingly flash of light, more blinding than the others, and when it cleared all in the group but one were standing.

The other lay on the ground, flailing wildly as if in deepest pain. In the havoc I had not been able to tell who it was who had escaped and stood up, or who it was now thrashing around on the ground. Whoever it was, none of the others seemed to see fit to step forward to help him or intervene in any way.

I watched in terror as the poor figure writhed on the ground. I didn't know what was happening to him, but I was certain that, whatever it was, it was pain like I had never seen before. I had half a mind to run out of the castle and do whatever it took to help him, but none of the others seemed to share my compassion for the suffering boy.

I had lost my concentration on the group and was frantically looking around the room, trying to find some way, any way that I could save his life. I even considered going for a teacher, but I feared that if I left my post the boys on the grounds would be gone before I returned.

And I was right to think it, because as I watched, transfixed in horror, the group slowly began to step back from the body in the center. I frowned, uncertain why they were doing this until my eyes fell onto the body. It was completely still. A desperate part of me reasoned that he had only lost consciousness, but by watching those close to him I knew the truth – he was dead.

The others all seemed to have realized the height of their situation and, without even bothering to attempt to dispose of the body, they faltered and ran franticly for the castle. Halfway there one of them, turned and fled instead in the direction of the Forbidden Forest. Nobody tried to stop him.

Fervently, I swept my eyes over the scene, searching for the so distinguished figure of my beloved. But I could find it nowhere. He was definitely not the one headed for the forest, and did not seem to be among the others. Beginning to panic, I double checked, my eyes sweeping the rest of the grounds as well and, as I had been trying to avoid but knew was inevitable, fell upon the lifeless body at the border of the forest.

It was strangely twisted and contorted, and I could barely recognize it, but I knew that it had to be the reality.

"Nooo!" I shrieked as the terrible truth dawned on me. It couldn't be… It just couldn't. I screamed out in terror, but deep down I knew that no amount of screaming or shouting would bring him back.

I was making far too much noise and I knew it, but I found that I did not care if I attracted every teacher in the castle. I didn't care about a damned thing.

I fell to the floor wailing, wallowing in my own despair. I felt that I could never move from this spot, that I could have stayed there all night, stayed there all day. I could have never gotten up and died and gone on to haunt that spot where I had experienced the apparent murder of my beloved.

To me it made no difference. I felt as if my world had come to an end, and nothing could hinder my anguish or despair. As far as I knew, this was all that there was left for me in the world, and I would never live to experience anything more, because I had lost the only thing that had kept me looking towards the next day.


	14. My Anger

**Chapter Fourteen: My Anger**

* * *

As impossible as it seemed, my life did not end that night. As much as I wished otherwise, I kept living and breathing, and life went on. But my pain did not end.

I had always known that if anything happened to me that his world would simply keep turning, but I knew that without him mine could not.

It was announced to the school that there had been an accident in one of the greenhouses and that something venomous had gotten into his system, causing his sudden demise. The only way people knew to talk about it was to say nothing at all, and nobody seemed interested in questioning this story.

But I knew. I had seen he entire thing, and knew that they were all lying to us. I never protested or tried to do a thing about it, but from then on I secretly despised the lot of them and did not trust anything I was told.

I had loved him, I knew that much. But the greatest shame of it was that he had never known. He had not known how much I cared, that I was watching over him always, or that I even existed. A part of me wondered if he would even care about me if he did know that I was there, but I forced myself to insist that he would – after all, he was the one for me. He had to be.

Only a few days after the incident that had ended his life and ruined mine, I found myself again out on the grounds and at my little hill. But instead of sitting contentedly on the cool grass and taking secret pleasure in spying on my peers, I was standing stiff with my arms crossed and staring down at the spot where I knew that his mangled body had been not long ago.

However, my mournful thoughts were soon interrupted by a disturbance. A group of rowdy boys had come out onto the grounds and were laughing and teasing each other loudly.

I squinted down at them, and recognized a number of them as boys whom I had seen with him on multiple occasions. My body seemed to realize it before my mind did, and my nails digging into the palms of my clenched fists seemed to bring this truth to the surface, and I was soon fuming in irrepressible anger.

I had kept myself totally withdrawn for the last three years, and even before that I had never been one to act out. But now I simply could not restrain myself. Before I had any chance to think of what I was doing, I was running full speed down the side of the hill, straight at the group of boys and gathering energy and power as I went.

Before I knew it I was level with them and had flung myself against one of the tallest ones, banging my arms angrily against his chest, "You monsters!" I screamed, not caring who saw me or what they thought, "You imbeciles let him die! I know it, you filthy little…"

I felt large hands pry me away, picking me up with ease as I flailed my arms and legs uncontrollably, still screaming at the lot of them, "I saw you! I know that you were there… You may not have cast the spell, but you stood back and let him die! You cowering little beasts… I'll rip your hearts out!"

I could absolutely not be controlled or restrained. It did not occur to me for a moment how huge these boys were, and if they wanted to they could knock me unconscious with a single strike. Even if I had realized this, it wouldn't have stopped me..

However, the solid guy holding me was much too strong, and I had nobody else within each to hit at. Very reluctantly I flailed less and less, and finally began to silence my shouting and screaming.

Not willing to hold onto me a moment longer than he had to, he let go of me and backed away. I fell to the ground limply but did not attempt to get up or to continue my attack, despite the anger still boiling in my veins. I sat there, sobbing dry tears, but not saying a thing or looking up.

Although I was not looking at them, I could still almost see them standing around me, some of them guilty, some of them clueless. I knew it was awkward for them all, and I was glad. Even those who had nothing to do with the whole incident were guilty in my mind. Even though I was uncertain as to what exactly had happened or what I had seen, I felt sure that any of them could have intervened and saved his poor life.

"What is she talking about?" One of them belatedly demanded a bit too fiercely, convincing me that he had been in on it.

"I dunno…" Said another. No, not him. He wasn't involved.

"She must be in shock or something." Yea… or something.

"Poor kid." Oh, so was that the method that they were going for? As if putting on a show of feeling sorry for me would make them look innocent? Well, for their information I was not mad, and I knew everything that I needed to know.

"Should we try getting her to the hospital wing or something?" One of them asked uneasily. So maybe some of them, the ones who had not been involved, did actually feel sorry for me.

"Nah." Really?

"Best just leave her be." Okay, so maybe just one of them.

"All right then." And not even that much in the first place, apparently.

But then, to my surprise, a new voice joined the group, "You're damn right, you had better leave her be."

I finally looked up out of curiosity to see who had arrived, and I found myself in the shadow of an even larger group, a few members of which I recognized, but most I did not. The speaker was a girl, and I immediately thought of Estrella, but then recalled that she had graduated from Hogwarts the year before. However, I was sure that these people were what remained of her group, and this girl must be who had taken her place, so to speak.

I felt compelled to ask them what they were here for. I feared that they remembered me from my days when I had counted myself as one of them, and I did not want to be remembered like that. However, they did not even look at me, not breaking eye contact with the boys whom I had attempted to attack.

"You lot had better clear out of here," she spoke again in her cold voice which commanded attention, "Unless you want a real ass-kicking."

I did not expect them to be at all afraid of her, but was astonished to see that they exchanged anxious glances and began to back off.

"Yea, whatever… there's no show here anyway," One of them said, looking like he really did want to get out before things got too dirty. Clearly this group had earned quite a reputation.

The girl did not lower her gaze from them until they had completely departed, at which point she and all of her accomplices turned inward towards me.

Slowly I stood up and looked around at them. They were all standing perfectly still, staring at me with blank eyes and hard faces. "I…" I began, meaning to thank them in some way, "I'm sorry… I've been such a mess. Ever since he died-"

I could not go on. It hurt me too much to even speak. Still, they stood still and silent, simply watching me as I clutched a hand over my mouth in attempt to quell the sobs that I feared would come.

And then the girl was standing beside me, her cold hand resting on my shoulder. She spoke, and it was with a gentleness and understanding that I would never have expected her to be capable of upon laying eyes on her, "You loved him, didn't you?"

I said nothing, but gave a slight noncommittal jerk of my head which I trusted her to interpret correctly.

There was another pause which they allowed me for my grief, and then she swiftly removed her hand from my shoulder, and when she spoke again, the gentleness of her voice was replaced with something much more harsh. "He died for what was right. Those people would sooner have seen the structure of our world fall than save his life."

My head snapped up towards her at once. Those words… they felt so familiar to my ears, and I felt as if I had sat through this entire scene before, although I could not quite recall when or where.

Knowing that she had my rapt attention, she went on, "These boys were not the only ones involved. There were others, and we know exactly who they were. They can not go unpunished."

The others began to join in, and soon there were voices coming from every side of me.

"They deserve to feel pain."

"Like he did and like you do."

"You cannot let them get away with such foul deeds."

"You have what it takes to make them pay."

"And make them pay you will."

I felt as if I were being haunted by spirits, constantly nagging and swooping down at me from all sides, leaving me powerless to ward them off. I wanted them to go away so that I could be left alone in my own pain, but they showed no signs of relenting.

"The world is changing," the girl said, "He tried to fight to make things better for our kind. He fell, but you can help carry on the fighting in his name. Avenge him and go on to continue his noble work so that he will not have died in vain."

There it was again. These words, this message… I had heard it all before, perhaps long ago. Did this mean that this was what I was supposed to do? Was there even any other choice left for me?

But I said nothing. I stood still, hanging my head and avoiding looking them in the eys. I think that they must have realized that I was not quite willing to give in, for they tried a slightly different approach.

"Would you refuse to join in, or perhaps attempt to stand in our way?"

"Would you be like one of them, who stood aside and let him die, out of your own cowardice?"

"Or even one of the ones who had wanted him dead?"

This approach certainly did grab my attention, and I finally looked up, "I would never," I said in a low yet firm voice, "I am not like them… But I don't think that I am like you either."

The girl looked somewhat taken aback at my sudden voicing of will, but she seemed to realize that I meant what I said. She took two steps back and said, "That may be, but you will soon change your mind. And when you do you will be sorry."

Unwavering, I watched as they turned around and marched back to the castle. I was relieved to be free of them. I had said it and I had meant it; I did not want to be like them.

And yet there was something of that exchange that stayed with me, that would sometimes, when I would let my guard down, come back to me and torment my mind.

I became less and less at ease, and as time went on I knew that something had to be done. To be quite honest, I was tired of my meager existence. My life had been devoid of meaning for years, and now the one thing that seemingly kept me going from day to day was gone. I could barely see the point in going on any longer, and as every day became more and more of an ordeal, and I couldn't say how long I would be able to bear it.

I had never known life to be as hard to endure as this. I had face tough times yes, very tough times. But now I felt sure that there was nothing left for me and there never would be.

I began to look for ways out. At first all that I wanted was a way to steer clear of everybody in my life, and then I wanted a way out of school, and it didn't seem like to far of a step after that to wanting a way out of my very life.

And in many ways I did. After everything that I had put up with for so many years, it was almost impossible for me to imagine that it would all ever amount to anything more.

It slowly began to dawn on me that I simply didn't care. This was not a thought that settled easily, for I had spent so much time sheltering myself that it felt strange to drop it all and hold myself out to the world, crying into the darkness that I no longer cared what it did to me.

It did not take me long to make my final decision.

Two weeks later I was standing in a small room above the Hogs Head, my hair falling loosely down my back and around my shoulders, blending into the darkness of my cloak.

"So…" said the voice of my sister, "You have not spoken or so much as looked at me for these long years, and now you come crawling back to me?"

I hung my head low, staring intently at the floor, "Yes, it is true."

"Hmm… And what exactly do you expect me to do for you? You have not shown me the courtesy of a sister, and I think we both know that I don't owe you anything."

I now raised my head, staring beseechingly into the eyes of my estranged sister. I took a moment to draw my breath, and then said, "Sister, years ago you offered me the chance to assist you. You said that I would become great and do the most noble of work. Then I was captivated by such ideas but was not prepared to do what I had to. Both of these things have changed. I no longer care for your ideals or your offers of greatness. But I also don't have anything holding me back."

My sister frowned deeply and stepped forward, appraising me. "What is it you are trying to say?" she demanded sharply.

I looked down once again and said in a low monotone, "I am entirely at your services… Whatever you ask of me, I shall do."


	15. My Allegiance

**Chapter Fifteen: My Allegiance**

* * *

From that point on I was theirs. Completely and unquestioningly theirs.

I went where they ordered me to go. I said what they ordered me to say. I did what they ordered me to do.

When I started, I had absolutely no idea what I was getting myself into. It made no difference to me. I felt hopeless, a lost cause. I was also angry. Deep down, below the multi leveled layers of depression and despair, every inch of me was aching for revenge, demanding to make those idiots suffer. I think that a secret part of me also wanted revenge for my own sake. I had been oppressed and dominated all of my life, and I felt that it was time to see the tables turn.

Essentially, I had been alone in my time of greatest need and had nowhere else to turn. It was in many ways a problem that I had been struggling with for my entire life, and this was finally the time for it to be resolved. I had avoided taking action or a step in any direction for as long as I could remember, and now I had the opportunity to change everything

But I didn't correct anything. Finding myself twisted every way, I simply closed my eyes and leapt. And I happened to leap right into the worst possible place, but I couldn't even bring myself to care. I decided, with just about no reason at all, to dedicate myself to their cause.

I didn't care what happened or what they forced me to do, which made me extremely valuable to their cause, as they knew there was no order I would resist. The one thing that did stop me short of being perfect was that my heart was never in it. I was surrounded by fanatics and extremists who were all impassioned believers in their work, convinced that it was all leading to a greater world for us all.

I never bought into any of that load of shit. I simply didn't care. None of it made the slightest of differences to me. I knew that even if we were living in a greater world my world would simply keep plummeting steadily downwards. I was not interested in changing the world or bringing glory or any of that. Ultimately nothing that mattered would change.

I think that part of me realized from looking at the whole thing objectively that what they were doing was wrong. It was not necessarily bothered by it, as I had grown accustomed to such goings on for all of my life, and yet I was somehow aware that it really was not right. But then again, it made no difference whatsoever to me and I was not about to do anything to hinder them. It was perfectly easy for me to stand back and lower my eyes, unphased, as they paraded my behavior straight past me, even drawing me in.

They made me do some truly horrible things, though. Things that would have taken any normal person and made them disgusted by themselves and want to scream out in terror at their atrocious deeds. I, however, never cringed or considered backing away for the slightest moment. It simply wasn't a choice for me. I knew that, other than this, I had absolutely nothing else to do and nowhere to turn.

Looking back after all this time, I find myself extremely appalled at all of the things that I did during that time. I can't even bear to go into great detail about any of it now, but I am absolutely shocked to think that I could have ever done such things. If I had stopped for a single moment to consider or even think about what I was doing, then I feel sure that I would never have given in.

But I did not consider it, and I did not think about it. I simply took orders and obeyed them. My reasoning seemed to be that, since I no longer cared what anybody did to me, I didn't care what I did to anybody else either, and my conscience seemed similarly disinterested.

I went through the remainder of my time at Hogwarts as their instrument within Hogwarts. I was not as available to them as I would be out of school, and was also never given the opportunity to take charge of my own assignments, but merely assigned small parts to play in the schemes of others. They would find ways to get me away from school when needed without anybody being any the wiser, and I could be found heading alone down the street of Hogsmeade each weekend there was a trip to the Hogs Head, where I would be met by some dark stranger and be taken away to do whatever was asked of me.

My graduation meant the coming of my opportunity to dedicate my entire life and to be of some real use. To some, this would be the most honorable thing possible. Others would have been horrified by this prospect. But I did not care either way. The only positive thing that I saw was the increased danger, the increased possibility that I wouldn't have to bear another day in my skin.

It finally did come. Graduation: the end of my school years, and the beginning of whatever else might be waiting for me out in the so called real world. As I marched into the Great Hall along with the rest of the seventh years with whom I felt confident that I never wanted to see again for as long as I lived, I became vaguely aware that somewhere in the same line marched Adriana Brown.

I would have once expected this thought to stir some sort of ache or longing within me. But now I merely acknowledged the fact, but did not bother to give it a second consideration. I did not even turn and crane my neck to seek her out in the crowd, to see her happy smiling face, her childish excitement at the prospect of graduating. To me she was nothing. She had once been a part of my life, and quite a significant part at that. But now she was only the smallest fragment of a distant past which could no longer hold any power over me.

I marched on, and sat through the entire ceremony without the slightest reaction, utterly disinterested in what was happening around me. All that was on my mind was what was coming for me in the dark, dark world which I had already had more than a taste of, and my growing secret desires for it to all quite simply come to an end.

So much had happened during my years at Hogwarts. Things that changed me and shaped me and ruined me. I had entered school at age eleven with my heart and mind set on discovering some new and exciting identity. Now, at seventeen years old, I was leaving and had long since lost any such dreams. My identity was irrelevant.


	16. My Assignment

**Chapter Sixteen: My Assignment**

* * *

I had grown convinced that I was really walking on the edge, that a single step could lead to the slip and then the fall to my so earnestly awaited departure.

I was, however, extraordinarily wrong. The truth be told, my decease was nowhere near. Quite on the contrary, my tale was only just beginning. Every day felt like the beginning of the end, and yet the end of the beginning was not even yet in sight.

It had been several months since my graduation, and had since acquired my own unremarkably small flat. I very rarely received any visitors, which was not much of a surprise as I no longer had as much a single proper acquaintance. When somebody did come to see me, it was always a summons of some sort with a message of what they were expecting me to do for them. This morning was no different, and yet the messenger they sent changed everything.

Waking up, I had begun preparing my paltry breakfast with little enthusiasm when I heard a firm knock upon my door. Knowing who must be calling, I grudgingly accepted that I would be going without breakfast and, throwing aside the washrag I was holding, I turned to the door and pulled it open.

I was astonished to see the cold eyes of my sister staring back at me. "Oh! Hello Bella…" I said with awkward uncertainty, "Would you… would you care to come in?"

Her neck jerked involuntarily, suggested that she would much rather not, but she suppressed it and said, "No… It would not be at all necessary. I've actually come to take you away. You have a job to do."

"Are you sure you don't want to… talk?" I suggested weakly. I knew no part of my sister was interested in catching up, but it seemed like the kind of thing I was at least supposed to offer.

Bellatrix felt no such obligation. She looked away from me haughtily and said grimly, "You had better hurry up – you don't want to keep them waiting."

I rolled my eyes, "Of course not. They wouldn't want to accidentally give me a morning off."

She made no comment, but waited in disapproving silence as I prepared myself, and I had hardly tied my traveling cloak when she disapparated.

We arrived in the usual meeting place, a derelict cabin seemingly in the middle of nowhere. As we entered the bare front room, Bellatrix didn't stop to look back at me as she disappeared into the door on the opposite wall, leaving me to stand alone in the drafty entryway. I was reminded of how much I hated this place and its disquieting abandonment.

Some five minutes later, the door to the main room opened again and a man I did not recognize bid me enter

I did as I was told, stepping cautiously inside, careful not to make to much noise as I did so. Gathered about the hearth at the far side of the room were two men whom I was expected to answer to. I found myself both disappointed and relieved that Bellatrix was not among them.

The room fell silent upon my entrance, leaving me uncertain as to what I was to do.

"Come forward, young woman," one of them spoke at last.

I quickly obliged, taking several steps forward so that they could both see me in the firelight and speak naturally to me.

"You are Andromeda Black, correct?"

I nodded simply.

"Recent graduate of Hogwarts, Slytherin house… resident of 18D, Cylac Lane?"

"Yes… that is me." I said.

"And you are only eighteen years old?"

Again, I nodded.

"Impressive… We have received quite extraordinary service from you in so little time. You seem to be a quite unusual and promising one. Of course, perhaps it is not such a surprise with a sister such as yours."

I realized that they expected me to say something and said lamely, "Oh… Well yes. Quite so… I suppose."

They exchanged glances with each other, and I had the slight impression that they were asking themselves if they somehow had the wrong Andromeda. Or maybe they didn't expect eloquence from their thugs.

I didn't know what conclusion they came to, but the taller of them spoke again, in a very serious tone, "Miss. Black, we are willing to put total confidence in you, but we first must be certain that you can handle whatever we task you with."

I didn't give a second thought as the familiar words came out of my mouth, "Whatever you ask of me, I shall do."

He looked up at me and then said, "That will do. That will do very well. And now what, young Black, do you say to this?"

"What?" I asked, really not knowing where all of this was going. I wasn't used to such elaborate charades. It was normally go here, deliver this, curse that.

"You have been selected for an assignment. A delicate operation that you will take command of, with the assistance of those assigned to you."

"Oh!" I said, betraying my surprise.

This kind of leadership was only given to those who proved truly dedicated - the most fanatical soldiers. Of course, I probably gave more of my own time and life than most of the others, but it wasn't so much out of belief for the cause, as having nothing else to live for. Their ideals and plans meant nothing to me, I was just an unresisting instrument.

"Well? What do you say?" He demanded once again, "Are you in?"

"I…" I began, overcoming my speechlessness, "Yes… I think that – Yes, you can count on me."

He gave a crisp nod, "Good. That is what we want to hear. Please, sit down." He gestured to a small table against the wall

I quickly sat down and was joined him, as the others hovered above us. I was temporarily stuck with the feeling of being a particularly promising flank of meat with a herd of vultures swarming overhead.

"So, let's get down to business, shall we?" He said.

I shifted a little in my chair and asked, "What exactly am I going to be doing?"

"All in good time, all in good time," he said, "Before we talk specifics, you need to understand what you are stepping into. Although you have proved your usefulness, up until this point you have not taken on so large a role. You have dutifully played your roles in other operations. Roles that, however well executed, were of limited importance. While you never made a mistake, if you had it would not have been detrimental, and there would have been someone to clean up after you.

"Now, however, things are going to be quite different. You will only have us to answer to, and you will have other under your supervision. It will be entirely your own responsibility to both plan and execute this assignment from start to finish. We are not here to hold your hand. Withdrawing or resigning will not be options for you, and you will only be finished when our objective has been met. Do you understand?"

It was quite a bit to take in all at once, but I forced myself to respond, "Yes… I understand." It was as he put it: withdrawing or resigning was simply not an option.

"Excellent." He proceeded, "Now, your assignment… There is certain information which we must get a hold of. As always, we need to maintain a reasonable degree of secrecy, even from you. It is not yet your responsibility to understand any details beyond the fact that it is of utmost importance that we obtain this information.

"It is currently in the hands of the Lady Jacqueline Riley. It is a essential that the breach must go undetected in order to buy ourselves time before the theft is discovered. No harm must come to the house or any within. Lady Riley is a pureblood whose father is a great benefactor of ours. As you can imagine, it would only bring up awkward questions if the family became aware of our involvement."

I frowned slightly, but nodded, "Yes, I understand."

"So what we want you to do is to find a way to get these documents away from her. I have here the directions to the chamber in which it is hidden and the necessary counter spells that will lower the protections placed over it. Your chief responsibility will be to get there, leaving anyone any the wiser… for the time being. It is entirely up to you to devise and execute a plan to make this possible. We are counting on you."

Eyes wide, I nodded, "Yes, sir… I'll try my best not to let you down."

"You'll do better than try. You are dismissed."

Although I would greatly prefer to pretend that I continued in my trademark indifference, I had to say that part of me was secretly excited at the whole idea. It was something new and bold, and still not something that would force me to face other people or even the real world. And a darker part of me had begun to wonder what the power I saw in my sister would feel like under my own skin. It was sorely tempting, and I felt very drawn to the whole entire idea.

And yet, for a reason I couldn't explain, I was frightened. I was daunted by the expectations finally placed on me and I couldn't envision myself as anything except a disappointment. I found myself so at odds with this dichotomy of being so attracted to something that frightened me so much. I tried not to think of the fear, tried not to think of any of it.

I knew that I was supposed to be devising some master plan, but whenever I tried to brainstorm or develop any kind of design, the fear would overtake me and I would retreat into my inner silence.

I knew that I was running out of time, and that I may well be dooming the whole thing before I even started. And yet I could not bring myself to confront the idea of what I had to do. I had committed so many worse deeds than simply stealing a document, and yet the idea of actually taking charge frightened me more than anything that I had done before.

Finally, with only days left before the council expected me to deliver, I was forced to accept that I had absolutely no plan at all. Feeling hopelessly desperate, afraid of what would be done to me if my failure was discovered, I did the one thing that I swore I would never resort to: I turned to my sister.

I was very doubtful upon arriving at her house, provided I had never visited her home before, let alone asked for help.

I knocked uncertainly, convinced that the door would open to reveal to me that I had the wrong address, but just as I was about to try the next house on the street, the door pulled open and I recognized the darkened silhouette of my sister.

"Oh Bella! I've been meaning to come see you," I said, hoping that she would join me in pretending that it was natural for us to meet like this, though I knew I was asking a lot.

"What on earth do you think you are doing here?" she demanded.

"I just thought that maybe…" I began, trying to wrack my mind for the least pathetic excuse. Unable to come up with anything, however, I simply spoke the truth, "I need your help."

She curled her lip at me with what unmistakable disgust, but begrudgingly held open the door, allowing me to enter.

I did so quickly, before she had time to change her mind. I caught the slightest of glimpses of house beyond the foyer, but did not waste time in looking too closely. I was fully aware that she did not want me there, and reasoned that it was best for both of us if we got through this quickly.

For the same reason, I wasted no time in getting straight to the point. As the door clicked shut, I turned to face her and said with a sharp intake of breath, "I don't know if I can do this… They gave me an assignment of my own and I just don't think I can handle it. I really don't want to let anybody down. But honestly, at this point I am just considering not doing it at all!"

I looked up, and was almost surprised by the look on my sister's face. However I had expected her to respond, this was something different. "What is it, Bellatrix?" I asked.

She was silent for a moment, and when she began to speak, the words flew out with furious violence, "You aren't going to do it you say, you aren't going to do it?" she cried, "Oh, like hell you are! You are going to do it if it's the last thing either of us lives to see."

"I…" I began, "What?"

"You heard me – Do you think that I am going to let you out of this one? What do you think will become of me once they find out?" she demanded, "I bet it's just what they want to see: my own sister, a cowering little fool who can't even carry out a single silly assignment! What would become of me, my ambitions, my reputation? Oh, but in Merlin's name, whatever they do to you, just wait until I have my fill… we'll see what is left of you then, shall we?"

I had drawn back, genuinely paralyzed with fear of my sister. What scared me most were not the hateful words, but the flicker of wild joy and anticipation in her eyes. I was beyond wondering whether she was capable of doing what she said. The only unanswered question was how much she would enjoy it.

"All right!" I cried, "I'll do it, I swear I'll do it… But I don't know how. I have no plan, and I am sure I won't be able to come up with an adequate one anyway – it is hopeless! Unless…" My eyes darted nervously up at her, "Unless you are willing to help me."

Bellatrix turned stubbornly away, not willing to yield, "Now, why would I ever help you?" She demanded coldly.

I swallowed my pride and replied with honesty, hoping that if her sense of compassion didn't kick in, her sense of self-preservation would, "Because without you, I am hopeless. I am sure to disappoint and humiliate you, which would be just as bad if not worse a giving up now. I would make a mess of the entire thing, and you would have to come in and clean the entire thing up. You know that would happen, don't you?"

I could tell that my logic was working very effectively on her. Realizing the truth in my words, she turned back and pointed a sharp finger at me, almost jabbing me in the chest with it, "You don't plan on running to me every time after this? Because I swear, I won't be there to save you."

I shook my head solemnly, "If it is what you want then I will never take on another assignment after this. I could even stop working with you, if it is what you want. You have enough influence that we'd be able to excuse my absence without any extra humiliation on your part."

She seemed to agree with me and, although she obviously hated to admit it, she had very little choice but to give in. "Oh, very well. But after this no more favors – and I mean it, you here?"

I nodded quickly, "Of course."

She rolled her eyes, "Yea… that's right. So what is thus dumb assignment of yours anyhow?"

Very aware that I had to get as much of her advice while I had her convinced, I rushed on, "I have to get some information – like a document or something – from a house. I know exactly where it is and how to get to it, but I have to get it without letting anyone know or get hurt, especially the Lady Riley. But I simply have no idea how to go about it… I know that it can't be so difficult, but I can't find a way around the security."

Bellatrix stared at me incredulously for a moment, as if expecting me to say more, and then said, "Are you serious - they gave you about the easiest assignment possible, and you are blubbering this much?" I did not argue. "Fine. I said that I'd helped and I will.

"All that you need here is a little bit of Polyjuice potion, you know what I mean right? If, after all of those years that you spent in school, you didn't learn a thing, then there's even less hope for you than I thought."

"Yes Bellatrix, I know what Polyjuice is," I said, growing impatient with her condescension, "You were saying…"

"Right. Well all that you need to do is switch places with this lady what's-her-face. Somebody will… Oh fine, I'll even volunteer to help in this one. I can keep a watch on her, while you disguise yourself and set off to her home. It shouldn't be too hard to find a way to get a hold of her. We'll modify her memory so that she isn't any the wiser. I imagine we can probably even make her forget to check for the document. They won't realize it's gone for days… Oh heck, why not – if your so helpless I'll just arrange this whole thing for you, why don't you."

"Thank you," I replied quickly, "You are so… well, thank you anyway."

She waved it aside, "Whatever. It's just because you're my sister – don't ever expect this again."

I felt as if a great weight had been lifted off of me. This was going to be absolutely no problem at all. After all, with Bellatrix taking charge, what could possibly go wrong?


	17. My Trap

**Chapter Seventeen: My Trap**

* * *

With Bella's help, it did not take long to flesh out the full plan and be ready to put it into action. We were able to purchase a small amount of Polyjuice Potion in Knockturn Alley, and Bellatrix had one of her cronies follow Lady Riley, gathering all the relevant details we needed..

I was to impersonate her on a day when she had very little scheduled. She would be on her way to a private dinner with her fiancé, and nobody else would be expecting her for hours. It would not be at all problematic to kidnap her while she was en route, pluck enough hairs to get me through the night, and quietly switch places with her. I would simply sit through the remainder of her date and afterwards have her chauffeur take me directly to her home. Once there I would have no trouble navigating through the rooms to where the document lay hidden. Having retrieved it, I would then depart from the home with speed, unless I had been seen by anyone, in which case I would head to Lady Riley's private quarters where I would wait until the mourning, when I would leave the house as if merely going bout my daily activities, leaving nobody any the wiser.

I was of course quite nervous. After all, I was about to impersonate another human being, which wasn't necessarily a piece of cake. Hell, I hardly felt able to pull off passing for myself most days. Though it was an indescribable relief to know that I wasn't alone in this. Surprising as it may seem, dear Bellatrix had proved to be of use to me.

All too soon, however, the day arrived. No logical part of me could say exactly what I was feeling as the moments ticked down, but looking back now, I suspect that the secret parts of me could detect the mysterious: change was coming to my life.

While I would be the only one "in the action," so to speak, Bellatrix and two other young men would help me prepare. All that the three of them had to do was get a hold of Lady Riley and keep her constrained and wipe her memory when it was done with.

I arrived at our meeting place, an abandoned tenement building down the street from where I was to have a very awkward date with a stranger's fiancé, at the appointed time to find Bellatrix and the other two already lying in wait. Bellatrix made me recite the plan multiple times, her yes boring into me the entire time, ready to attack at the slightest mistake.

Despite the mounting panic in my chest, I maintained my composure and when the time came I knew we were as prepared as we were going to get. I stayed behind as they left the building to ambush the Lady as she passed by I suddenly wondered what would happen if this was the night she chose to change her routine, if she apparated directly to the restaurant instead of walking past the botanical garden. But she proved that predictability was among her virtues, and within fifteen minutes they were dragging her into the shack towards me, her limbs flailing wildly but undoubtedly silent.

"Can't you tell her too hold still?" One of the men grunted with a groan as he took a particularly violent blow to the shin.

"Well why don't you ask her? I'm sure she'd be quick to oblige…" The other one retorted humorously.

"What kind of wizards are you?" Bellatrix demanded, "Just stun her for goodness sakes – here, I'll do it. Stupefy!"

The woman fell limp immediately, and was caught in the last second by one of the men. Bellatrix strode toward me with great annoyance and said, "Have you got the potion?"

"Oh yes, it's on the table," I responded, hurrying towards it – I had begun to feel like an outsider watching a strange scene, but was well aware that this was about to change.

Bellatrix yanked a clump of hairs out of the unconscious woman's head with what was quite probably more force than necessary, and thrust them in my direction

I was about to add the hairs to the potion when I realized that Bellatrix's other hand was still extended, holing something out for me.

"What is this?" I asked, taking it from her. Inspecting it more closely, I found that it was a small container of fogged glass, "A… perfume bottle?" I asked, glancing uncertainly up at my sister.

"It's to hold the extra Polyjuice," she pointed out bluntly, as if I should have known, "You've got to have an extra supply to keep you going. It's just disguised as perfume so people don't suspect anything. But you need to drink it when no one is looking… I'd imagine they'd think you're out of sorts if they catch on if they see you sipping perfume."

I took note not to forget about the extra supply and set the bottle to the side for the moment as I turned my attention to the full supply of Polyjuice. Wrinkling my nose a bit, I dropped the hairs into the strange concoction, stepping back as it boiled quickly into a mucky dark blue. I glanced up tentatively, but knew from their eyes that there was nothing left but to drink the horrid thing.

Hoping to get it over with quickly, I attempted to drain the first dosage all with one gulp, and in that moment I was flooded with a thousand of the most revolting physical sensations I had ever experienced. The only thing that kept me from doubling over and gagging was the dignity that I felt I must show, whether I truly felt it or not, in front of my sister.

I had not been prepared for the sheer discomfort of the transformation, as my blood boiled and my skin stretched, the very composition of my body changing. Just as I was sure that it would never end, it suddenly stopped.

I walked slowly over to the dusty old mirror that leaned against the wall and evaluated myself in the fractured reflection. It was strange to discover somebody else's appearance for the first time through my own body. I was taller than before, my skin gently tanned, and the curves of my body flowed in unfamiliar contours.

I foolishly raised my arms and waved my hands a few times to be sure that it was, in fact, me who I saw in the mirror. I had almost the same shade of dark brown hair, and yet while my own was usually dry and brittle, this new hair was long, sleek, wavy… I ran my fingers through it and was astonished by its unfamiliar softness. My new face was also rounder, and when I touched my cheek I was surprised to feel the heat of my breath against my hand. This was no mirage – this was a real, living person.

It was not until much later that I realized that in that moment I had been staring straight into the eyes of my own self, embodied within a different identity. If I had known it then, perhaps the idea would have opened me up to the possibility that there was still hope, still a chance to find what I had long since given up searching for.

But before any such insight could dawn on me, I was drawn away by one of the men saying, "All right, all right, that's enough admiring yourself. We've got a job to do, haven't we?"

"Oh," I said, forcing myself to pull my eyes away from my unfamiliar reflection, "Yes… I suppose we do."

"Well then, how about you stop lolling around, and get some of those clothes on… we haven't got all night, you know," Bellatrix ordered.

I nodded and hurried forward without another word. I had never realized how hard it was to take clothes off of a limp body, let alone a limp body wearing a very fitted dress, let alone while being watched by an extremely impatient sister and two eager men.

I did manage the feat, however, and hurried to pull the dress onto myself. I found myself glad that the room was poorly lit by the setting sun, for the two men made no effort to avert their eyes which, even in another's body, made me uncomfortable.

Even when I did get the dress on, my discomfort persisted. Her body and all of her curves felt strange and foreign to me, and I felt wrong within them. Having laid my own cloak as a cover over her body, I proceeded to pull on her heels and pearls.

Bellatrix begrudgingly helped to spell up something extravagant-looking with my hair, but it probably wouldn't have made a difference – this woman had a seemingly natural degree of elegance that couldn't have been hindered by whatever we did or did not do to her hair.

I turned back to them at last, totally transformed. The men didn't seem to be able to do anything but stare at me. My sister, however, seemed unable to even look at me. "Well, what are you waiting for?" She snapped, "Get on out there and don't blow this thing."

I nodded plainly. If she wouldn't look at me then that was just fine, but I wasn't going to speak to her.

I marched across to the door, but before I could get up I heard a slight stirring, and before I turned back around I knew what was happening, "Hold it – she's coming to!"

"What… Where am I?" Came the voice from the lump on the ground beneath my robes.

"Hold it-" the other man said, trying to keep her where she was until he could reach for his wand.

But then her eyes found me, and they must have doubled in size, trying to take in what the saw. I was certain that she was about to faint, and just the moment before I expected it to happen, she opened her mouth wide and let out a scream as loud as she could, a terrified cry for help.

All three of the others ran in towards her at the same time, all attempting to silence her at once. Her scream rang on through the mess of frenzied bodies in the darkness as she skirted backwards as rapidly as she could on the floor, all the while trying to keep her naked body covered.

I wanted to do something to help, anything, and was on the verge of rushing forward into the mess when Bellatrix's voice rose above the others, "Move out of the way, you imbeciles so that I can get the stupid little… Andromeda – you get out of here this instant, you hear? We don't have enough time or potion to waste! We're counting on you to make this right… Move aside, so I can get in at her – Get the hell out of here Andromeda!"

With every fiber of my body desperately wanting to be anywhere but here, I obeyed and stepped outside, closing the door behind me as quickly as I could. I hurried around the side of the building and found my way to the street where I did my best to walk at a natural pace.

As I cleared the front of the building, I saw that there were already a few people slowing to stare as they passed. There was far too much noise coming from inside, but thankfully it was muffled enough that nobody outside could be sure what was happening. I wondered how long it would be before anyone dared go inside to investigate.

I sped up a little, and was enormously thankful when I made it safely into the restaurant next door, out of the peril and into its warm, quiet shelter.

I felt sorely tempted to slump off into the one of the waiting chairs that stood near the door, but forced myself to remember that I was supposed to be a lady, and would have to somehow manage to keep my poise.

A waiter approached me, "Hello madam, do you have reservations?"

"Reservations?" I said, momentarily lost, "Oh yes, I suppose I do… Reservations in the name of…"

Fantastic. I had only just stepped through the door, and was already encountering problems. Bellatrix was supposed to debrief me on these details before I left, including my reservations and table number. I had no idea whether the reservations would be in my name - that is to say Lady Riley's name - or in my fiancé's name - that is to say Lady Riley's fiancé's name.

That was when I realized with a jolt that I didn't even know the name of this strange fiancé. I knew that it must have been mentioned sometime or another, but I could not recall and had been counting on being reminded. The main focus of our planning had been on what to do once I got to the house, that I suddenly felt totally unprepared for what we had assumed would be the easiest part of the night.

"Madam?" The waiter repeated politely a second time.

"Oh yes… Well, I suppose that they would be in the name of either Jacqueline Riley, or – or…"

At just about that moment I was saved, as a man came rushing towards me and cried joyfully, "Jackie, how grand to see you!"

I did my best to force an equally joyfully smile on and said, "Hello! How, er… grand to see you as well -"

I realized just in time that I was not one hundred percent certain that this was my supposed fiancé. He could be anyone – a friend, a family member, a secret adversary. We were just two people in a restaurant, and neither of us really knew who the other was.

My doubts were immedietley put to a rest, however, as he placed a big wet kiss smack on my lips as a greeting. Yea… we are going to assume this one is the fiancé.

"How lovely t o see you again… dear."

I was paralyzed by the depth of the water I was attempting to stay afloat in. I did not know this man's name, or how our relationship stood, or how I was supposed to act, or what I enjoyed, or any of that. I didn't even know when our wedding may or may not be taking place – what if he wanted to spend the entire meal discussing the details, what on earth was I supposed to say? I had never been on a real date and had assumed it was all just holding hands and making dewy eyes, but I suddenly felt completely out of my depth.

I may never have been much of an actress, but I knew I had to be bold to get away with this. Whatever this Lady Riley who I was supposed to be was like, it almost certainly was not the lost little blubbering girl who I was acting like. It wouldn't be easy, but I had to make this work.

I forced an adoring smile at him as he let go of me, repressing the relief I felt at having his hands off of me, and said, "Oh darling, how I missed you…"

This seemed to be quite enough for him, as he took my hand and led me away, pulling me in towards the center of the restaurant, with nobody stopping us to ask me for more personal details that I didn't have.

I was enormously thankful that we stopped at a table in the dining room proper. I would have been mortified if he had led me to one of those little niches in which they always seat the couples, where the light is dimmer, privacy is assured, and the heavy fragrance of perfume of other overly passionate couples lingers behind.

As we sat down and he settled himself back into his seat, I was able to steal my first good look at him. He was slightly muscular and had a perfectly acceptable build, but his face lacked any distinguishingly attractive structure. Of course, it made no difference to me, but I couldn't help but wonder how a man like him and won a jewel like Lady Riley.

But when he looked up at me, his eyes were alive with that glowing love of young souls who know nothing of reality beyond each other. I did my very best to return it, but even as I did my thoughts unintentionally wandered to the woman who this gaze was meant for her, and wondered what was becoming of her.

"So my dear, how did it go?" he prompted me, once he seemed satisfied with staring into my eyes.

Of course. The first worlds of conversation simply had to be about something which I knew nothing about. Bellatrix surely knew exactly where she had been all day and would be able to answer with ease, yet I had much greater difficulty, and simply had to fake it.

"Oh yes, it was fine, just fine… Would you like to order?" I dodged, trying to change the subject, though he was not so easily thwarted.

"So he didn't have any trouble when you spoke to him?" he asked.

"Oh, well…" My brain was scrambling, trying to find an escape, "We actually didn't get to talk much… Well, not about you know what, at least."

"Really? Well that's a bit of a disappointment…"

In desperate need to get out of this conversation before my lack of control became evident, I reached across the table and took his hand in mine, "Yes, but darling… I'm here to be with you. Let's just put everything else behind us for tonight, shall we?"

For a moment I feared that he was going to deny me this, but he proved cooperative at last as he perked up, "Yes – an excellent idea! There is no better way for us to spend our time, as I say."

Eager to keep the conversation to simple romance, I improvised, "Yes… if we have to count the hours until we are together again, then we should not spend our time apart discussing what happens when we are apart."

He frowned at me for a moment then. I was uncertain if it was of my befuddled wording or because the real Lady Riley was somewhat less poetic (if that can even pass as poetry). Whatever it may have been, I was lucky enough to get it passed off with a simple squeeze of the hand and a smile.

No more conversation had to pass between us for a while, until he let go of my hand and reached for his menu, picking it up and browsing its contents. "What will you have, my dear?" he asked me politely.

"Oh, hold on…" I said, as I to reached for a menu. This particular restaurant seemed to have quite an array of enticingly exotic foods, and I knew precisely what I would choose… But what about Lady Riley? It may seem silly or unimportant, but if I so much as ordered the wrong thing, then he would surely know that something wasn't right.

"Umm…" I said, trying to find the easiest way out of this next predicament. "How about you order for me?" I suggested, "You know what I like… darling."

He looked at me for a moment, and then nodded. If he had wanted to comment he had decided not to, which certainly was a relief on my part. When the next waiter passed by, he stuck his hand out to get his attention and said, "Waiter? Yes, we'll each have the three course special, please. Thank you."

I preoccupied myself with arranging the napkin in my lap, and when I looked up it was to see him staring at me, mesmerized.

"What is it?" I asked, uneasily wondering what was on his mind.

"Oh, nothing… I was just doing that thing where I can't comprehend how beautiful you are."

I wanted to tell him that he would have to stop because I did not like it at all. But I had to remember that I was Lady Riley now, and I had to leave all of the irrelevant insecurities of Andromeda behind in order to be able to pull this thing off.

Instead, I forced myself to flutter my eyelashes at him in a manner that I would never have believed possible of myself and coo, "Oh, thank you, dear… Sometimes I think that I could just sit and stare at you for hours upon a time… darling.

I was really going to have to come up with some better things to call him than just dear and sweetheart. It was all that I could do while I did not know his name, but my creativity was starting to run low, and with every word out of my mouth I felt more out of place.

When finally I could see the waiter heading our way with the appetizers, I sat up a little straighter. Apparently in all of this I had forgotten just how hungry I really was, but I certainly remembered now. The arrival of food also meant that we could focus on eating, and there would be less pressure to fill the void with false words. With any luck he would be satisfied to spend the rest of our time together staring into my eyes in that way that off-putting manner of his.

"Here you are Miss Riley…" said the waiter, setting a precisely arranged plate in front of me. I gave him a nod of gratitude as he turned to put the other plate down, "And here is yours, Mr. Tonks."


	18. My Tragedy

**Chapter Eighteen: My Tragedy**

* * *

My head snapped up immediately at the name and I stared at the man across from me as the waiter walked away, leaving us alone together at the table.

Tonks – Tonks? So the man did have a name! Unfortunately for me, the waiter had not betrayed his first name as well. I could hardly go around calling the man who thought that he was my fiancé by his last name, who would do that? Especially with such a bizarre name as Tonks…

"Is everything alright, Jackie?" he asked, looking up at me and noticing the look on my face.

"Oh, yes!" I said, perhaps a bit too quickly, "Just… the food is hot, that's all."

He nodded, "Well, there's no rush… What would you like to talk about while we let it cool?"

Great, just what I needed now – conversation. "You know that all I want to talk about is you," I faked adoringly. I hoped that this type of behavior was not too out of character for Lady Riley, for I felt I was starting to overdo it. But I simply did not know what else too do at this point. Meaningless gushing romantic blubber was the best way that I could fill the time that I had left with him without actually saying anything of substance that would give me away.

He, however, seemed to be quite pleased with my attitude. Even if he was somewhat aware that I was acting strange, he made no comment on it. "Oh Jackie, you simply are glorious, don't you know?"

I grinned back at him, "Yes, I am somewhat aware of it… But have you heard about yourself? Charming, handsome, wonderful…"

Of course, every word of this was a lie. If I had been forced to sit through a scene like this between two other people I would be almost certain to gag. Now, I had to swallow my pride and pretend that I took pleasure in such grotesque flattery.

We began to eat our meal together, and as I ate I fell to watching the movements of his arm as they traveled at a constant speed from his plate to his mouth, his wrist twisted slightly to hold his fork, revealing a silver band around his wrist.

At the sight of that watch I frowned. It reminded me of something that I couldn't immediately name. Was there possibly something that I had to do that had slipped my mind? I could not think of anything… What time was it, anyway? How much time had passed?

Then it occurred to me and, quickly setting down my own fork and dabbing my mouth with the napkin in my lap, I said, "Won't you excuse me sweetheart? I have to… use the ladies room."

He nodded, "Of course, Jackie. I'll be right here when you get back."

Without another word, I clutched my purse, stood up, and made my way towards the restaurant restroom. To my dismay, it was not empty. I squeezed into a stall, where I quickly rummaged the small purse until the disguised perfume bottle slid into my hand.

"Thank goodness," I muttered, plucking the cork out of the small bottle. When I did, I found that the concentrated fumes were even worse than I remembered, and sincerely hoped that nobody decided to investigate the strange odor.

Not wanting the man at the table to wonder what was keeping me, I quickly swallowed a gulp of potion. This time I was prepared for the revolting taste of the potion, and yet I was glad that nobody was watching me this time. Even with that small comfort, I wondered how I would be able to keep coming up with excuses to steal away.

Wiping my mouth off and tidying myself, I left the bathroom, the bottle once again securely hidden in my purse. The man was waiting for me, just as he had said that he would be.

I sat back down and did my best to smile at him, although I could still feel the horrid taste within my mouth. "I'm sorry my dear." I said as I reseated myself, "Now, where were we?"

"Oh, I can't quite remember," He said, flashing a foolish grin, "But I would be perfectly content to pick up wherever you like."

"Well, how about we just eat then, and talk if we feel like it," I said quite plainly.

He shrugged slightly as if to leave the option open, and said, "As you like it."

It was really starting to bother me how much he worshipped his future wife. He seemed to treat her as if she were a goddess or better, and I could almost see them married – him groveling at her feet and catering to her every whim as she went out and flirted with the neighbors and spent her extravagant wealth on everything but him.

I was uncertain why exactly this bothered me so much. Perhaps it was just the lingering foul taste in my mouth that put me in such a bitter mindset. Or more likely, maybe it was the fact that I did not believe people should be allowed to be that happy together.

But like it or not, I was there. Truth be told, this was the most affection anyone had showed me in a long time, and knowing that it was all a lie was almost too much for me to handle. For a devious moment, I considered lashing out on Tonks, telling his to back off, or even that I wanted out of the engagement altogether. I would be doing them a favor, really, saving them both from years of dull marriage.

But of course this was out of the question. I had to keep on smiling and mirroring the adoring look in his eyes, pretending that it meant something. It grew boring very quickly, but there was no escape.

As the evening finally began to draw to a close, and I eagerly counted down the minutes until we could part company. He had already gotten the bill, and I sat edgily calculating when I would have to drink more Polyjuice, as I watched another young couple and make their way towards the door, holding hands.

I almost turned away from them in annoyance, but noticed that just before they reached the door, the waiter who had greeted us held out a hand to stop them, speaking in a rapidly hushed tone. The man dropped his girlfriend's hand and put his own hands on his hips as he listened to the waiter. Not far away, there was another huddle of waiters, who also seemed to be speaking to each other in urgent whispers.

"T-" I began, only remembering just in time not to call him by his last name, "Honey… What is going on?"

He looked up, and saw right away that something was up, "I'll go see," he said, dutifully standing up to stride across the room.

I meant to go with him, but just before I began to follow him, a thought struck me, and I bent over the bill, beside which he had left his wallet. As quickly as I could, I pulled out a card at random, and I found what I had been looking for: A name inscribed upon the card, Theodore Tonks.

"Hey, Theodore, wait up!" I cried, after replacing the card and following after him.

He turned back and looked at me incredulously, "Since when do you call me Theodore?" He demanded.

"Oh…" I said, stopping, "I was only kidding – you know me."

Great. So that had gotten me nowhere at all. The only thing that it had done was make me blunder up, calling him by the wrong name. But then what did I call him? There were endless possibilities; it could be some derivative of his name, his middle name, or something that had absolutely no connection to his given name.

"Are you coming or not?" he asked me.

"Yes… yes I am." I hurried to his side. I momentarily considered taking his hand like the couple before us had, but I shook the idea off.

When we reached the waiter, Theodore or Tonks or whatever he was called asked, "Excuse me… What exactly is going on here?"

The waiter finally turned away from the first couple and said, "I am most sorry good sir, but I cannot allow you to leave. The police are securing the area outside of this building, and they have asked us to hold everyone inside for the time being."

"The police!" Mr. Tonks cried, "Just what is going on here?"

A second waiter hurried over to us, "Sir, will you please keep your voice down? We do not want to make too big of a deal out of this."

"You don't want to make a big deal out of it? All right, then how about you tell us just what is happening here?"

The waiter hesitated and said, "There has been a very grave occurrence – a body has been found nearby, and they say… It looks like a murder. The police will give us permission to allow our guests to leave momentarily, but for now they have been asked to stay put. We are most sorry for any inconvenience this causes."

At these words, my partner automatically reached a protective arm around me, and I was grateful for this. I held onto him tightly, afraid that I could lose consciousness any moment.

They had found a body? It looked like murder? Well of course it did, but if that meant what I thought it did… There had certainly been a struggle when I left Bellatrix and the others in that shack, and I had not seen how it had all ended. I wouldn't put it past Bellatrix to act so rashly if she lost control.

But if that had really happened, it put me in a very tight spot. The moment that they identified the body, my cover was blown. If I was trapped in this restaurant when the news broke, then I would certainly be discovered. If Lady Riley was found dead, her fiancé would be informed, , and what would happen when the entire restaurant testified that, as Lady Riley lay dead next door, she was also dining inside with the man whom she was to marry? I couldn't even bear to think about the whole thing…

I pulled on the sleeve of the poor man standing beside me who was entirely unaware that he had just been told that the woman he loved could be dead. "Honey, I want to get out of here…" I implored, "This is not the place for either of us to be right now."

He squeezed my shoulder reassuringly, "I know Jackie, my dear. But there is nothing I can do about it."

"But can't you convince them to let just us out?" I begged.

"Of course not. What have I got that will make them listen? You are the one with all of the money and influence, or have you forgotten?"

"I am?" I said, only just beginning to remember that I was not Andromeda here, but an elegant Lady with an extremely influential and wealthy father. "I am! Of course… I'll put this right."

I strode forward, and tapped the nearest waiter on the shoulder. This time it was the waiter who had greeted me when I arrived. He looking up at me patiently, "Yes madam?"

"Look now, I don't mean to be a hassle, but my darling fiancé and I have really got to get out of here. We have an entire group of well-wishers waiting for us who have already been delayed long enough, and I simply hate to keep them waiting. Oh, I'm sorry… don't you know who I am? I'm Lady Jacqueline Riley, and my father – why happens to be a very-"

The waiter held up a hand to silence me and said quite confidentially, "I understand madam, I quite understand. You mustn't let anyone know, but I can arrange for your beloved and you to make a little escape, but please try to stay quiet."

Within five minutes the two of us were outside through the staff entrance. I gave the waiter my fullest of thanks plus a generous tip, and hurried to the street with Tonks at my side.

I could feel him gravitating toward the onlookers nearby, curious to see what had happened. I knew that I needed to get him away as soon as possible before the truth came out. But none of that mattered if my disguise gave way.

Nobody was watching me, and it was dark. I grabbed the bottle from my purse and gulped down more of its contents before anyone got a chance to see what I was doing.

I gave my head a bit of a violent shake, and as soon as I had regained myself and redeposited the perfume bottle in my purse, I hurried forward to find the man I had parted company with only moments before in the crowd.

As I edged past people, I tried not to listen to their speculating gossip, but I couldn't block them out. I was actually surprised at how much they seemed to know as I picked up whispered fragments of their conversations. "That poor woman, dead… I think she was found there, between the restaurant and that eyesore next door… they said that she was mostly naked… must have been a rape case for sure… who would do such a thing?... That poor woman…"

I finally spotted him, and reached out, grabbing his arm, "Darling, we need to get out of here!"

"Hold up Jackie," he said, "I want to hear this…"

"Please, honey," I begged, "This really isn't the place to be, I am telling you."

"All right, I'm coming…" he said, allowing me to pull him away. "Come on, my car is this way."

"Car?" I asked, slightly taken aback.

"Sure, I'll give you a ride… it is so much cozier than apparating."

"Oh, I'm sure it is, but I need to go-"

"Not to worry," he cut me off, repeating, "I'll give you a ride."

I was a little uncertain about this. The plan had been for me to leave on my own, and I couldn't afford to deviate from the plan any more. But if this was the only way to keep him away from finding out what had happened, then it was what I had to do.

I allowed him to help me into the passenger seat of his car, and shifted about uncomfortably. I had scarcely ridden in muggle vehicles, and it left me ill at ease.

Fortunately his attention was diverted as he began to drive, but after a few minutes he seemed to notice that something was bothering me, "Are you all right, my dear?" he asked, glancing at me from the wheel, "You look quite upset."

I was very upset, and if the night didn't take a decisive turn for the better, I'd be a lot worse than upset. "I'll be fine…" I said, which was a difficult lie to pull off – not that I tried to hard. "I'm just upset… that poor woman-"

"I know," He cut me off, filling me with relief that I did not have to speak. He took one hand off of the wheel and reached over and grasped mine with it, "I understand… But I promise, things will get better."

That was a difficult promise to make, and I was certain that he would not be able to fulfill it. My life had been steadily plummeting downwards for years and years – tonight of all nights was not going to improve that.

All the same, at times like these a person does need somebody else beside them, and I secretly felt solace to have his hand holding onto mine, warming it with steadfast security and support.

Even if a small part of me wanted to stay in his guarding presence, most of me was desperate to escape from his presence. I had messed up so much already this evening, and I feared that staying with him any longer would cause me to make a mistake so big that I wouldn't be able to escape from.

The date portion of the night had been extremely shaky because I had not been prepared. The plan for the rest of the night, on the other hand, had been drilled into my head so fiercely that I knew it inside out and backwards. I knew exactly what to do if just about anything went amiss, and I felt very comfortable with the entire thing.

Of course, the stakes had been highly raised with the discovery of the body, and I knew that I could not allow a thing to go wrong once I reached the house. I had to stick strictly to the plan, and I had to do it quickly and effectively.

I wondered briefly what had happened to Bellatrix and the others, but I already knew the answer. She had deserted me. My own sister… yes, it was true. I would be a fool to think anything else. Things had gotten too out of hand, so she had seized control, acted rashly, and gotten out. She knew that any and all blame would fall directly upon me, and she had no problem at all with this.

Yes, I had been a fool not to expect it, to believe that she could care for me more than herself. Hopelessness swept over me, but I would not allow myself to give in to it. I may be in this alone from now on, but that did not change what I had to do. Before I had left, my sister had shouted to me that she was counting on me to make this right. She may have deserted me, but I knew there was truth in her words. I had started this, and I had to finish it. I didn't know what would come next, but I would simply have to face whatever challenges came until I saw this thing to the end.

I leaned forward a bit it my seat as we drew nearer to the home of Lady Riley, preparing myself for what I had to do. I knew exactly where the large house lay, and I found myself counting the streets as relief simmered within me.

Finally, I could see the house, rising above everything that lay beneath. I was ready to get out of the car and dash up to the house, so eager was I to get out of this filthy mess. And then we were there!

…And then we were gone.

I turned my body frantically as we drove steadily past the place that I was certain was my destination.

"Honey?" I said anxiously, "Wasn't that… Didn't you miss it?"

He merely chuckled, and I saw that he obviously had not noticed how bothered I was this time, and if he did nothing to acknowledge it. He just smiled naturally, "Don't worry my dear – I'm taking you over to my place."

My hands clenched in my lap, grabbing hold of the long skirt of my dress and wrinkling it in anguish, "Are you sure that is such a good idea?" I asked, unintentionally letting my voice rise several pitches.

He nodded definitively, "Yes, I do. Our whole evening was ruined by this nasty business, and I feel that I have got to make it up to you in a way. We will have some champagne, and we can get a chance to really talk… you'll like that, won't you?"

I tried to say that it would not be at all necessary, but no sound seemed to be coming out of my mouth. I didn't know how to get out of this one, and no excuses, brilliant or pathetic, were coming to mind. All that I could do was lean hard into the back of the chair and clutch my hands tighter and tighter in attempt to control my panic.

I wondered just how much stock of Polyjuice I had left and when I would have to take it again. Would it be enough to last until I left him and got to the house, however I managed to do that?

When the car at last stopped, he got out first and hurried politely around the car, so that he could open the door for me and help me out. Earlier that night I would have fought back the urge to tell him that I could get up by my own perfectly well and that he could go find some other rag doll if he wanted someone to maneuver about. But now, I felt almost thankful that he was there, for I was uncertain whether I would be able to stand on my own or not.

He seemed not to notice this of me, and was occupied with his own excitement of having me in his house. Looking up at the place, I wondered how often he had taken me (or her, actually) here before, as one glance at the exterior showed that his flat paled in comparison to the home of Jackie Riley.

He seemed to be proud enough of it though, and led me inside.

It was worse than I had expected. He lived on his own in this little place of his all alone, and did not appear to be the tidiest of fellows. Actually, in his solitude he seemed to have let the place get away with itself. I amused myself for a moment with trying to picture him suddenly transitioning into the orderly extravagance of Lady Riley's world, and wondered how on earth he would get by once they were married.

That was when the terrible truth returned to me that he did not yet know: that they would never be married. In many ways, this was the last night he would ever be able to spend with his beloved. Barraged with pity, I almost felt that owed it to him to not make this night totally awful.

At the same time, however, I couldn't escape the gravity of my own position. What exactly would happen when he found out that I could not possibly be his Jackie, as she had died about the same time that we had eaten dinner that night. His muggle police would not be able to explain it, but he was a wizard and was all too capable of pursuing the incident to the truth. I needed to get out of that place as soon as possible, but my conflict stranded me there, frozen in uncertainty.

"Wait there dear, I'll get the champagne."

I nodded, and seated myself on the largest stretch of bare floor which I could find in the little den. I sat in silence, wondering what would happen if I just got up and left right there and then. It was an option, but arousing his concern would only hinder me further.

After a few minutes he returned from the other room, two glasses and a bottle in hand. He joined me on my little patch of floor, setting the glasses between us. "Hmm… how about a bit of firelight?" he asked, pointing his wand at the small fireplace which I had not noticed before behind a stack of books. A fire appeared instantly, brightening up the room and providing an gently crackling underscore.

I could tell that he was going for a romantic approach, and all that I could do was humor him. I saw no other way out of it, and a growing part of me was genuinely beginning to pity him.

He filled up the glasses carefully, and when he finished I reached out and took the glass nearest me.

He did the same, and raised his slightly. "To us. May we always cherish and protect for each other. For as long as we live."

I drank submissively, but it was in the company of a greatly troubled mind that I did so. For as long as we live, he had said… As we sat here by the fire, the very crowd which we had passed through earlier were murmuring of the strange condition of his beloved's death, whom he believed that he now sat with.

"Darling?" I asked tentatively. He looked up at me, willing to hear whatever I had to say. I bet my lip, and then said, "What… What if we never saw each other again?"

He was clearly surprised by thus sudden question, and looked at me skeptically, "What?"

"No, I mean it," I said quickly, "What if… What if I left tonight, and you were never able to see me, never able to lay eyes on me, again?"

"Is everything all right, Jackie? Because you know that if that if I've done anything wrong, I'll make it write. We can get through anything together…"

"It is not that-" I said quickly, for he looked very serious indeed.

"Then what is this all about?" he persisted.

"Just answer the question, alright?" I said, with equal insistence, "What would you do?"

He looked steadily at me for a moment, and then spoke, "I wouldn't let it happen. I would hold you tight and never let you go… I know enough about our love to say for certain that nothing in this world could ever tear us apart. And that is a promise."

A promise – a promise? The poor woman lay dead, and here he was promising that he would never let anything harm her? It would have been a greatly amusing irony if it wasn't so devastating.

I dropped my head and brought my hands up towards my face. He immedietley got up to move closer to me and said, "Now there, don't be sad." He wrapped one arm around my shoulders and took hold of my own hand with his other, "I am here, and so are you….I won't let you go, I simply won't."

He hesitated for just an instant, and then let go of my hand, instead bringing his to rest against my distant cheek, which he slowly turned towards him , bringing me into a kiss.

I was totally unprepared, and would have pulled away if not for the stun of the whole thing, both the notion of the kiss and the actual feel of it. That evening he had greeted me with a kiss, and yet it paled in comparison to this.

I had never kissed a man whom I loved before. The only man I'd ever kissed was Claude Richardson, and I don't need to prove that there was no emotional connection there. The only man who I ever believed that I really loved had never spoken to me, let alone kissed me.

But another thing that I had never done before was be kissed by a man who loved me. But he was holding me so tenderly, and I could suddenly sense everything that he had felt coursing through me all at once. It was a glorious feeling, and I almost didn't want it to stop.

Inside, a very prominent part of me realized how completely wrong this was. I shared no such feelings for him, I did not even know him. The strongest thing that I felt towards him at this point was pity. He kissed me with the uncompromised intent of comforting his beloved, but in reality her distant body lay mangled, and I, who shared the kiss with him, found myself unable to stop the flow of hot tears sliding down my cheeks.

Upon pulling apart he wiped my tears away with his thumbs, though I knew they would not stop. The poor man… this injustice that I was doing to him was too strong for words. He should be the one crying, and yet I was suffering in his place. It was the first time that my self pity was not on my own account, but for the sake of someone else, someone who deserved to live a simple, content life.

"No…" I objected, "I – I can't do this."

He infuriatingly mistake my meaning in his best of intentions, "Not a worry my dear, I swear to you that I shall be here for now and forever for you."

Before I had time to make another objection, he was kissing me once again, so gentle and sweet. I cannot deny that I did enjoy the sensation. It was a secret longing that everyone had, and that I had long sine buried seep within myself. But at the moment, any thoughts of pleasure were overridden by something that felt much greater: fear.

I didn't know how to make it stop. I felt weak, very weak; I had lost all control of the world around me, and I could not set it right again. The world was spinning madly, and I didn't know how to keep hold.

I stood up quite suddenly, pulling myself out of his grasp. He looked relatively surprised and stood also. "What is it, my dear?"

"I don't know…" I whispered to no one in particular, feeling incredibly lost, "I just don't know…"

He hesitated, not seeming to follow. But then, quite contrarily he said, "Yes, I understand." He took my head decisively, "Come with me."

Did he really understand? Of course he couldn't. But was he somehow going to let me go? That had to be the hugest relief of the evening, and I was enormously thankful to see that it was coming to an end. But once again, I was wrong.

I found myself slightly confused as he pulled me past the door which we had entered through, and deeper into the little apartment. He stopped in the doorway to the next room, pulling me into a reassuring kiss. When the kiss was broken. I turned with horror and saw that he had led me to his bedroom – this was not what I had wanted at all!

"Oh no, honey," I said, turning to look at him with wide eyes, "I really don't think that-"

"But you were right!" He said with excitement, "I wasn't ready for this before and you said I was a fool… But I am ready now, and since we both know that we will be together forever and ever – why wait? You were right all along!"

"Was I?" I asked weakly, feeling increasingly nauseous.

"Yes!" he said, "You were right, so right… And you are wonderful. You are the best thing that ever happened to me! And I… I want…" He did not give himself a chance to finish, for he seemed unable to stop himself from starting to kiss me again, kissing me like I had never thought I would be kissed.

But this time I did try to break away. I wanted to run, but I knew it would make no difference. All night I had been trying to make things right, but it seemed plain enough that things tonight were not meant to go according to plan. Maybe it was time I stopped fighting.

I was struck with familiar memories from years past. But the images that returned to my mind were quite different… Then he had been a pig who had wanted to get a bit of action with me, and now it was a sincere man with love in his heart wanting to show the woman he loved how much she mattered. Then there had been a crowd laughing, cheering, and jeering, and now we were completely alone. Then I had attacked and greatly injured my best friend in the world, and this time it was a poor man and stranger who I felt the greatest of pity for. And there was one other difference… Last time, at about this point, I had become consumed with flame and felt power rush over me, through my very blood. Now I felt nothing but defeat.

We had made our way as one, him still kissing me with every breath, over to the side of the bed. He loosened his shirt and unzipped his pants. Then my dress was off, my purse dropped on top of it.

I had lost all will to fight, all illusion of control. I was losing everything; it might as well be over already. It may sound crazy, but a part of me still sympathized for him, wanted to give him the best possible last night with the woman he loved. Of course nothing I could do now would give him that. All I could do was lie so that he might have those last moments of love and passion before the horrible truth was to strike.

Feeling my trembling body, he pulled cautiously away, checking my eyes for lingering tears, "Jackie… This is what you want, right?" I did not respond at once, and gentlemen as he was, he quickly retreated, "We can stop if you're not… if it's not the right time."

"No," I objected, surprising myself with the certainty in my voice. "No… I want to give you this." This seemed to satisfy him, and a moment later our bodies were entwined again.

I did not know what was coming, what would happen after this night. Not to me, not to him, not to anyone. For all that I knew the world could end that night. It may have been best if it did, because even then I was once again falling into the knowledge that, after this, there was nothing left for me.

I hated the feeling of the entire thing… His lips upon mine, his body so close to mine, his hand running up and down my sides, his passionate heart pulsing strongly against my bare-breasted heart…

With every touch and movement, I felt my own guilt growing larger and larger, until I feared that it might burst. I should never have done this, not any of this. I shouldn't have accepted this assignment, shouldn't have allowed them to treat Lady Riley like they did. I should have gotten myself out when I knew that I was not prepared, should have done something to control Bellatrix. I should not have deceived this poor man so. I should have stopped before it got this far. And not even for my own sake, but also for his. I had reasoned with myself that I was giving him something to remember when he knew that she was gone, but I could really only be making the tragedy worse.

In the heat and chaos of that night, I almost forgot my reliance on the Polyjuice potion. To my horror, I could feel myself changing, my skin becoming rougher, my hair shortening, my facial features morphing… It was dark in the room and he had not noticed yet, but I knew that it was only a matter of time…

My legs wrapped around him, and his mouth devotedly caressing my skin, I stretched my arm out as far as I could, my fingers just managing to scrape along the edge of the bottle that lay on the floor, over my dress.

A few attempts later, I had it within my grasp, and brought it weakly up to my mouth, where I upturned it, swallowing the last of its contents.


	19. My Awakening

**Chapter Nineteen: My Awakening**

* * *

The next morning, I woke as if shaken from a nightmare. Sweat clung to my skin and I could do nothing to quell my furious trembling.

It would have been better if I had been disoriented upon waking up, not knowing where I was or what had happened, granting me a few moments of ignorance before the horrible truth set in. But I had no such good fortune.

The instant that I opened my eyes, I was bombarded with memories of the night before, struck with the overwhelming power of the truth. I closed my eyes tightly, wishing for it to disappear, or to at least for me to fall back into sleep so that I would not have to face it quite yet.

But I could not escape from it. It was all there, all true. Any doubts were put to rest by the feel of his slow and steady breath running down my neck from only inches away.

I turned my head slightly to look at him, and was relieved to find him deeply asleep. The morning had already dawned and light flooded the room from the window in the corner. My eyes widened slightly as they moved down his bare torso, and I actually blushed, still only a child inside.

I sat up suddenly, realizing too late that I didn't want to wake him. I glanced back behind me where he lay in peace, still asleep. Very carefully, I slid one leg after the other off of the side of the bed and stood up.

It was only then that I realized that I was completely naked. I looked around,, a somehow expecting to find faces watching me from the shadows. But no, the only ones in the room were myself and the tragically ignorant man in the bed.

I quickly spotted a white sheet draping off the edge of the bed, which had evidently been displaced during our tumble of the previous night. Smoothly and quietly, I pulled the blanket off of my corner of the bed. Shivering a little, I wrapped it around my body, trying to effectively cover as much of myself as possible.

I stood there, the white sheet draping from me as if I were a virginal angel, and yet I felt like nothing of the kind. I could not stand to be in that room any longer. I promptly headed towards the nearest door, not realizing it was not the same one we had entered through the night before.

I found myself in a small and rather shoddy bathroom, the trail of my bedsheet gown trailer through the door behind me. There was a mirror over the sink, into which I stared, as if looking at a stranger. My own familiar face looked back, knowing that I could not escape this form.

But even in my familiar reflection, something was different. I couldn't say whether something in my actual appearance had changed, or perhaps it was something in my mind had changed and no longer recognized itself in the mirror.

All that I could think was that I was not myself anymore, but I had never known who I had been to begin with. Wasn't that my entire problem in the first place – my inability to find hold onto an identity? It occurred to me that it was possible I had found one without realizing it. That would explain this loss I was feeling now, for whatever it was I may have found, it had most certainly been lost in the night.

I reached my arm out, turning on the cold water faucet. I found it somewhat soothing to see the water gushing out so plentifully like that. Absentmindedly dropping my sheet, I outstretched my finders to touch the water, drawing them back quickly at the shock of the chill. I hesitated for a moment, and then extended them once again. This time I did not withdraw, but held both hands there, feeling the water rush through my fingers in a stream of paralyzing continuity. It transfixed me, something constant and powerful for my lost eyes to grab hold of.

What I had not realized was that the sound of the water running had at last woken the man in the other room, and while I was standing here staring at awe into a sink, he had been stirring in the bed.

"Jackie, my dear?" He called, affectionate eagerness in his voice, "Is that you?"

Upon hearing his voice, the fascination in my eyes turned to panic, and I shut off the water immediately, but it was too late – he had already heard me.

I could hear him chucking lightly from the other side of the wall. He had no idea… "I know you are in there darling."

To my horror, I heard him standing up and walking across the room towards the door. I seemed to shrink backwards, desperate for an escape but knowing I had trapped myself in a corner..

All too soon, his expectant face appeared in the doorway. He had pulled his pants back on, but he still did not wear a shirt. Remembering that I too was not wearing any real clothes, I brought my hands quickly upwards in an attempt to cover myself.

But he seemed to be not at all interested in my body, for he was staring with a blank expression at my face, the joyful bliss instantly erased from his own. I didn't know what to say at all. The truth had to come out, but I had no words for it.

"You…" He said at last, speaking in a hoarse whisper, "You… Who are you?"

I figured that it was meant more of a rhetorical question, but I felt compelled to say something, "Andromeda Black," I said faintly. "I- I…"

I what? What could I possibly say about myself? This was certainly no time to go around handing out business cards and making introductions. The most proper thing I could say was that I was the lowliest and most undeserving scum that crawled the earth.

He did not seem to need to be told, however. His face was blank with shock, and yet I could tell that underneath it all, he was coming to the unbearably correct conclusions.

"You…" He began again, "It was you?"

I did not want to answer, didn't want to have to respond in any way. But under the yearning intensity of his gaze, I had no choice, and it was with great pain that I nodded my head.

He stood for a moment, and then turned immediately from the room, walking back to his own bedroom.

I wasn't sure what he was doing, and stayed glued to the wall of the bathroom, too petrified to move. I heard his footsteps come to a halt as he returned to the bedroom. Then, in a voice that trembled with fear, he called out, "Jackie?"

There was no answer, as I knew that there would not be.

He called again.

I gave a sudden dry sob as he stood there, calling for his young bride, whom was not coming back to him… Not ever coming back to him, no matter how much he called for her. I knew this, and the reality of it must have been dawning on him as well.

His voice fell silent, and for an instant I thought that he was giving up. But then, to my great dismay, he was on the move again, calling out again, as he walked through the house, searching hopelessly for her.

I slid down the wall into a sitting position, where I held my goosebump-covered legs close to body. Every time that his voice rang out through the empty house I could almost hear something inside him breaking as he fell deeper and deeper into hopeless certainty.

After a time too long for me to track and filled with too much hurt for me to measure, I could no longer hear his voice. I did not know what had caused it to stop, if he had given up shouting or left the house. I sat still and attentive, listening for any sign of what had become of him.

When what had to have been five minutes of silence passed, I very slowly and tentatively stood up. I stepped out of the bathroom and then, pulling the sheet back up over my body, I began to follow his steps through the house.

I was once again struck by of how small the place really was. With so few rooms, it seemed odd that he had been calling out and looking for so long when it was clear she was not there.

I felt much in his place, and as I walked from one room to another I was unable to find him. It was only when I stopped to look down at our champagne flutes from the night before in front of the abandoned fire that had long since gone out thatI realized that the front door stood slightly ajar.

I knew that he must have left that was, though I was at a loss for weather or not to follow. I didn't know how far he had gone – the way he had to be feeling at the moment, he could keep walking forever. I certainly would have been able to.

Against my better judgment, I decided to check anyway, just to see if he was still within sight. I crossed the room and pulled the door open, shivering against the cold of the morning.

I found that he had not left, and was in fact sitting on the steps of the small porch, his head buried noiselessly within his arms.

I didn't know if he realized that I was there, and I was caught between pitying and not wanting to disturb the poor man.

I simply stood there, wanting to reach out to him and yet unable to. It did not realize at first when he began speaking, his voice was greatly muffled, both by the cover and his arms and the trembling of his words. I did not know if he was speaking to me, himself, or even to her, but I strained my ears to hear.

"Why… why did it have to… I never… she was so… nobody ever deserved such… all that I ever wanted…"

I bit my lip, trying to restrain myself. The poor, poor man… Only I knew how and why he suffered, for I had endured the same thing in my time.

In silence, I stepped forward and took a seat beside him on the steps. I wore no proper clothes, but I didn't care – so many things were more important right now. I did not say anything or even look at him, but I sat there, and I sat there for him.

He did not seem outwardly to show any signs of me being there, but I did notice his voice fall silent, and I knew that he was aware of my presence.

I knew that it would not be appropriate for me to interrupt his grieving, and so I sat there in silence, waiting for him to come to.

Finally, he raised his head and turned to look at me. Seeing his face twisted my insides into self-loathing heretic's fork. He had seemed so alive and strong the night before, and this was such a strong contrast… it alarmed me almost as much as it must have him to see me standing there in his bathroom.

But when he spoke it was composed determination, much like when he had faced me in the bathroom. "She's gone isn't she… Gone forever?"

I was reminded very much of a child, realizing for the first time from afar just what it meant to lose something that really mattered. I could not bear to respond, but we both knew what my silence meant.

He faltered, but spoke again in the same carefully measured voice, "It was you, wasn't it… Did you do it?"

Once again, I did not speak – how could I? I turned my face away, but even without seeing him I knew that he once again interpreted my silent reaction as a yes.

I may not have been the one to cast the spell, I may not even have been present, but yes. I had killed her.

He did not ask anything else. We sat there in a very strange silence. We both seemed to know where the situation stood at, although I don't think that either of us knew where we stood at with each other.

So what was to happen next? All because of me, his entire life had just crashed and burned around him. I knew this. Well, of course I knew this. I, after all, had caused it.

But I couldn't sit here beside him, sharing his pain forever. If I wanted to help him in any way, the only thing that would be right for me to do was to leave him.

I stood up, perhaps more abruptly than intended. I must have, for he snapped his head in my direction, surprised.

I looked down at him, my own heart feeling the pain and despair that reflected back at me through his eyes.

I felt compelled to say something, anything… But what could I possibly say that could heal this terrible situation which I had caused? The only thing that I could think of to say was that I was sorry. Surely this would do nothing at all to heal the pain I had caused, to repair the fractures, to do anything at all… And yet it was a start.

I opened my mouth, and still could not get the words out. I moved my lips in the proper patterns to form the words, and yet it was inaudible. I felt on the verge of tears – I could not even do this one simple thing to express my compassion. I tried again, but it was hopeless.

All that I could see were his eyes, staring up at me expectantly, filled with both fear and hope, plagued by despair and yet awaiting my words. I could not bear to see those eyes… I could not bear to see him at all.

I turned on the spot, disapparating away from that scene which I couldn't abide for a moment longer.

Moments later I materialized and fell in a heap of sobs to the floor of my own flat, his sheet still clutched closely to my body.


	20. My Choice

**Chapter Twenty: My Choice**

* * *

I had done terrible things in my life, but nothing that compared to this.

I had also never felt so much remorse for someone else's sake. All of the horrible things that I had done throughout my life had devastating effects, and each time I was certain that I had never sunk lower. But it had always been about me: the way that I felt, how much I hurt, how I could never recover.

In this situation I naturally felt all those things – I felt totally wrecked and convinced that nothing I could do would ever make up for this – but that wasn't all. I could not erase that look in his eyes from my mind, I could not let go of the pain that I knew he was feeling, and I could not forgive myself for what I had done, not to myself, but to him.

I had never realized how self-centered my suffering had always been, and I wondered if I had ever really suffered on account of another. Whatever the answer was, I certainly was suffering now. I was suffering for myself, I was suffering for him, I was suffering for her…

I couldn't bring myself to believe what I had done, couldn't acknowledge the full truth of it, couldn't forgive myself for it. But no matter what I did or did not do in relation to the whole affair, it lived on within me, hunting and haunting me, and I knew that it would not release me.

I did not return to Bella or her friends to whom I owed thanks for the whole catastrophe. She had deserted me, abandoned me when I needed her by my side, and I felt that we no longer had anything to say to each other.

Returning to them would accomplish nothing. Anything could happen: I could be punished or forgiven. I could be given another chance… another chance to ruin another life, to cast my own further and further into the shadows. But whatever happened, it would not right this wrong.

I told myself it was better this way. I couldn't bear to face anyone who knew what had happened, to serve as a daily reminder. Of course, that also meant there was nobody there to blame. And on my own I was left to reflect not what they made me do, but what I did. What I did.

Through it all, the constant truth of my life remained: I was alone. I kept telling myself that. I was alone, I was alone… Completely and utterly alone.

Somehow it did begin to make things better – for me at least. I felt more justified in this knowledge. I had been so alone all of my life: I had never had a family that cared for me, never had friends that cared for me – well, one, but that was a long time ago – never anybody at all. Even when I had been convinced that I was in love, it had been for an anonymous distance.

After all this time, to be alone felt natural. It was just like falling into the normal pattern of my life, the pattern which, although so devastating to me, I had long since stopped fighting

I don't know how long I was left in this state of mind, reasoning myself in and out of sanity, of loneliness, of devastation. I lost track of time and I lost track of place. I even began to lose track of my suffering. I knew that I was in pain and that I deserved it, but it became harder and harder to name the exact cause of it. All of the unforgivable things that I had done throughout my life seemed to be blurring together.

You might even go so far as to say that I began to grow comfortable in my pain. I had, after all, gone into and out of times of seemingly endless depression and torture all of my life, that I was coming to the point at which I felt right at home in this state of mine, where it was so easy to block out the rest of the world.

Of course, life has a way of yanking you right out of your safety zone and forcing you to confront the world.

If I had known that morning what would happen as I set off to find someplace where I could eat with the least effort on my part, I would surely have stayed home, even to the unthinkable point of fixing something to eat myself. I did not, however, have any way of knowing, and I headed out all the same.

I think that he saw me long before I saw him, and he certainly recognized me fist. He stood across the other side of the walk, frozen still as if he had stopped himself mid-step, staring at me.

Even though I did not recognize him at first, I instinctively sped up my walk, hurrying on towards the café at the end of the street. Whoever this man was he obviously knew me, which would require some kind of meeting – an encounter which I most ardently hoped to avoid.

As I slowed down to look behind me, I saw that he had recovered from his frozen state and had jumped into the chase.

"Wait! Wait up, please – I only want to talk!" He shouted from near behind me.

Even if I further tried to flee him, I knew that it was of little use. Within a few moments he was upon me, and I was forced to turn and face him.

"Oh, whew…" he said, apparently out of breath, "I wasn't expecting to see you just then – and I certainly wasn't expecting you to try and run from me…"

I pursed my lips tightly, trying to think of how I could get rid of him. Now that it was clear who he was, I wondered if I hadn't know all along.

"Yeah, well…" I said, "I was just heading out to breakfast." I gestured my hand vaguely over my shoulder.

"Oh, really? Well – I was just heading down to your place. Do you mind if perhaps I would join you?"

I perhaps did mind him joining me, and quite a bit. But I could not find a suitable way to decline his offer, and involuntarily fell into step beside him as the walk was continued, my head clouded with begrudging thoughts.

I was really quite astonished to see him here, but my face betrayed no surprise as I walked along, determinedly not looking in his direction. I didn't know why he was here. I had left him alone, why wasn't he doing the same to me? Surely we had nothing more to say to each other… And worst of all, he was pretending that everything was natural, fine and dandy. I knew of his suffering, and we both knew that I didn't deserve to be made feel better by illusions of false pleasure.

We did not speak a word to each other until we were seated across from each other in the café, eerily mirroring the incident of a few months past.

Finally unable to stand it any longer I burst out, "What do you want with me – why did you come here?"

He frowned slightly at me, "I think you know why I came. I'm almost surprised that you never came to me."

"Well I don't." I snapped back quickly, unwilling to appease him. "I thought we were through with each other. Everything is said and done."

He looked as if he was going to retort, but seemed to quickly soothe himself, looking downwards and pausing for several moments before he spoke, "I spent a lot of time trying to find you… Trying to find out about you."

"Oh yeah?" I said, a childish hostility growing within me, "And what did you find out?"

He looked straight up into my eyes and spoke "I found out where you live… obviously. I found out your name, Andromeda, and the things that you have done. I found out about you're family – all about you're family."

I slammed my hand down on the table, causing the empty cups sitting there to rattle loudly, "You don't know anything about me," I said through my teeth, nothing childish about my anger now.

He lowered his eyes again as if to beg pardon, but it did not relieve him of my fierce glare.

"Well, perhaps not…" he said quietly. "And you know even less about me. But that didn't stop any of this from happening… did it?"

I did not drop my accusing stare, but was at a loss for how to respond, so said nothing.

In my silence he began speaking again, still very slowly, as if every word was carefully measured, "In many ways, I think that this whole thing has left us both with nothing, both with no one…"

I thought to myself that I had already been like that in the first place, but out loud I voiced in a slightly grumble, "So what do you propose?"

"Well," he said a little uneasily, "Just that. I propose… a proposal."

"You make no sense."

He sighed, "Andromeda, don't you see?" he asked grievously, "I'm asking you to marry me."

I didn't speak for what seemed like ages, but simply stared at him, uncomprehending. When he didn't call out 'April fools!' keel over in laughter, I finally said, "Are… are you serious?"

"Well, yes. Why wouldn't I be?"

I took in a large breath, at the height of which I said, somewhat hysterically, "Because… Because it's insane! You… marry me? What can you be thinking? You know that's impossible… not after what I've done, and what you've… I ruined your life, you aren't supposed to want to marry me!"

He put his head in one palm momentarily, saying, "I know, but trust me – this isn't something that I just decided to do out of the blue. Don't you see?"

"No." I said obstinately, "I don't see a thing."

"That night, you left me with nothing… She – Jackie – had been my everything. I loved her so much, and I thought that I would be able to spend the rest of my life with her." I swallowed and lowered my eyes, knowing what had come next. "But after that, when you – when she died…"

"Don't go on – I don't want to hear this," I said, my gut weighing heavy.

"No." He said sternly, "I will go on, and you will hear me out – you owe me at least that."

"Well, maybe… But I don't owe you marriage!"

Again, he seemed to try to collect himself before speaking, "Maybe not… But all the same –"

"All the same what?"

He seemed to stare at me understandingly for a moment before he spoke in a low voice, "You and I both know how this stands… we both know what happened, we both suffered greatly for it, and neither of us have anywhere else to turn. What else is there left to do other than –"

This was all nonsense. There was no power on earth that was gong to make me marry this man. It just wasn't right, not right at all.

"Look… I have to go. I wish you the best of luck with everything, but there is really no way that I could –" I stood up, ready to rush out of the café alone, but before I could he grabbed my arm firmly from across the table, holding me in place. I looked back at him with surprise at the force by which he kept me there.

"Andromeda," he said, not relinquishing his grasp on my arm, "I know…"

I groaned, unable to move an inch from where I stood, "And what on earth do you know that you think could possibly change my mind? Once again I assure you that there is no possible –"

He cut me off before I could go on, "I know that you are pregnant."

That stopped me all right, stopped me enough that he knew it was safe to let go of my arm which, along with the rest of my body, fell back into place in my chair, suddenly very still. "How did you…" I began.

"Never mind how, I know." He said. "And I also know that my son – whether he is Jackie's or Andromeda's or any other woman's is not going to grow up without me… And I also know that you need me."

This was the first thing that he said that, although I had more cause to disagree with it than anything, I said nothing against. I only remained seated, still and silent.

I don't know how long we sat there, but it felt like an eternity, and slowly the possibilities seemed to drain from my mind. With his words, the secret that I held became reality. It was no longer another in my head, but I living, breathing thing that grew within me.

Finally, he said, "Well… what do you say?"

Quietly, as if I feared that my own voice would betray me, I said, "What choice do I have?"

"You have many." He said, "We always do. But it is all about which one you choose… I have already made mine."

"And which one is that?"

"The one that is, quite simply, best for me… And for you. And for our baby."

I looked up at him and, despite whatever he might say, I seemed to know that there was really only one choice.

And I chose it.


	21. My Husband

**Chapter Twenty-One: My Husband**

* * *

We both agreed that it was best and easiest to get the wedding over with quickly and quietly. We did not wait for the baby to come, and we did not tell anybody.

It happened late one unspectacular autumn day and just like that, we were married.

I did not feel like a married woman. I had once imagined that, if I ever did get married, it would be a beautiful and tender and joyous occasion… And I would be beautiful and tender and joyous. But that was a dream which I had long since let go of, and it certainly wasn't coming back to me now.

I of course had to move in with him. It was a hard thing to do. Even if I didn't feel any real connection with my own home, it was all that I had that was my own. It was the place where I could hide myself away and where nobody else could reach. It was my solitude, me loneliness, my self-security. And I was pulled out of it just like that.

We did not move into his apartment, which I was thankful for. That would have been far too much of a nightmare; I'm sure for both of us. All of the memories that I had of that first night and the following mourning resided there, and I wanted to do all that I could to push them as far from my mind as possible. Surely he wanted to forget that night as well. I secretly wondered if he also wanted to forget his Jackie.

Instead, we moved into his parent's old house. Thankfully they were long gone, and we had the space to ourselves. It was a little out of he way, which I assumed was why he had never moved in there in the first place, but it seemed better for us both to have some distance from the city. It was not a large home, but there was enough space for me to find time and space to be alone.

I had grown so used to my solitude after living in such self-pity for so many years that it was difficult to adjust to living with another person. I had always been alone – I was alone when I lived in my apartment, I was alone at Hogwarts where nobody cared for me, and I was even alone at the home of my childhood, my huge empty home where I had never truly belonged.

I found much structure in our married life. He would leave home to work and do what he must, but I stayed home, always alone. Sometimes he seemed to worry about me, but I didn't care much. We spent little time together, although he sometimes insisted on sharing meals. We slept together rarely, but I sometimes gave in for his sake. It was never loving or passionate, it just… was.

I never understood why he made so much effort. He seemed always to be trying to make things seem better, make things seem right. It was almost as if he was still trying to create the perfect marriage that I knew was not meant for us.

It didn't take long, however, for things to go from bad to much worse. It started as all of the worst things in my life always seemed to have: with Bella.

She came to my house during the day while he was away. I didn't know how she had found us, but the fact that she was there was enough to frighten me for my life. Upon seeing her standing, in such dark contrast with the natural world that surrounded her, I instantly wanted to slam the door shut in her face, blocking her out of my life for good.

She was prepared, however, and caught the door, shoving it open again, "Now dear Andromeda, what kind of way was is that to greet your sister?" she crooned.

"I don't know," I groaned as I tried to shove the door shut against her weight, "Just about what a sister who abandoned me deserves!"

"Oh come now my dear," she said, thrusting the door open once and for all and strutting inside, "You aren't still holding that against me, aren't you?"

""Of course I am," I cried, "You ruined my life. You know you did."

"Why, little sister," she said in a disconcerting cross between menace and affection, "A girl like you has had her life ruined so many times, I figured that it wouldn't make much of a difference one way or the other."

I clenched my teeth, not wanting to think of the truth in her statement, "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, you know me… Always the sentimental big sis," she said, "I just figured I'd drop in for old time's sake."

My arms folded tightly over my chest and my accusing eyes glaring, I said coldly, "We both know that is a pack of lies, so why don't you just – "

"Actually," she said, her tone changing and her eyes narrowing in challenge towards my own, "I thought I'd drop in and see if I couldn't meet this dear husband of yours."

My face flushed, "He isn't dear and he isn't mine," I muttered, avoiding eye contact.

"Oh, is that so?" she probed, "And yet he is a husband. That's for sure, is it not?"

I did not answer, refusing to let her taunt me.

"Well I certainly hope you two are quite happy together after all that you have gone through."

"And why would I be?" I snapped, finally unable to restrain myself.

My sudden retort seemed to trigger something in her, and she flared up all at once, and I saw something in her eyes, something which made me fear for myself.

"You undeserving little scrap of filth!" she cried out, "I see now that you have never been worthy of the noble blood which runs through your veins – the blood which embellishes you, sets you apart, makes you part of the noble family to which you scarcely belong! You are weak, you have always been! You are a coward! You are a waste of dignity!"

"Please, Bella… stop!" I begged, trying to shout over her, almost reduce to tears. I had never been able to stand it when my sister got like this, and now was no different, "Please – what did I do? It is not my fault, I wish that it never…"

"You wish – you wish? Of course you wish, we all wish! We wish you had not been such a fool, not been so weak, not betrayed us all! We wish that this had never happened, our father wishes you had never been born – if mother was alive, she'd kill you both!"

She stood there fuming, her chest heaving up and down in aggravated madness. I did not dare make a noise, and I feared what she would say next.

Finally, appearing to have gathered herself, she said in a measured tone, 'This is it Andromeda. This is the end."

I stared up at her in fear, and for a wild moment I imagined that she was going to pull out her wand and kill me right then and there. But instead she turned and began to walk towards the door again, just like that.

"No, wait – Bella!" I called after her, "I don't understand, please…"

She turned partially back to me and said flatly, "You're not welcome anymore. Not with our family, not with me, probably not with the more decent portion of the wizarding world. You would be better just to disappear – you're nothing to us now."

I was shocked by the sudden coldness of her worlds after the passion with which she had shouted, but I still could not understand.

She seemed to see this in my eyes, and in response she repeated with more force, "You're nothing to us now. And you won't ever be again. You did this yourself – you cut yourself off the moment that you had the audacity to marry that Mudblood. Good-bye sister."

And with that she was gone, and I was left quite alone, accompanied only by my shock and slowly dawning comprehension.

A Mudblood… That was what this was all about.

I felt so stupid that I had not realized it sooner – how utterly naïve of me.

Sure, I had known next to nothing of my husband-to-be when we were first married, and I had not made an effort to learn much more since then, but surely I should have at least asked this one question. It seemed so obvious now. Of course he was a Mudblood, it accounted for so much.

I fell numbly into the nearby chair, and drifted into a strange meditative state, so uncannily calm at such sudden and shocking news.

I stayed there the whole day long, hardly shifting a muscle from my position until finally the door clicked open, and in walked the unsuspecting scoundrel for whom I had waited all afternoon.

He seemed relatively surprised to see me sitting there, as I was not normally one to wait for him in the evenings, "Why, hello Andromeda," he said with mild cheer as he shut the door behind himself.

I did not respond. He took a few steps forwards and looked at me carefully. He was such a fool that, despite how much he got used to my mood swings and sullenness, he still pretended that he could help me, that I would accept it. "Are you alright?"

Again, I did not respond. It was going to come out one way or another. Would it be in screams like the ones that my sister had treated me with that afternoon, or the tears with which I had reacted, or something quite different altogether?

My unfortunate husband, however, did not abandon me. He stood there patiently, waiting for some explanation – the kind he should have learned never to expect from me.

Finally, in what seemed more like a grumble than actual speech, I said, "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

I wondered if he had actually heard, let alone understood me, and yet he responded soon enough with an infuriatingly innocent, "Tell you what?"

Low grumble abandoned, I snapped my head directly towards him, "That you were a bloody… A Mudblood, that's what!

He stared at me for a moment, apparently lost for words, until he finally turned away, as if to leave the room.

"Don't you walk away from me!" I shouted after him, still firmly rooted in my seat.

He stopped and turned back to me "What do you want me to say?" He asked without much force.

After the heated battle between my sister and I this afternoon I felt let down by his lack of fighting spirit, but plunged on, demanding, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I figured you knew."

"You know well enough that I would never have married you if I had known!"

"I didn't think it would change anything."

"It changes everything – It changes me, my family – hell, it even gives me a genuine reason not to have to marry you!"

"It has nothing to do with who I am."

"It has everything to do with who you are – and who you are not!"

"I thought you were different from the rest of your family."

"Yeah, well… even if I am, that doesn't change anything."

"It should change everything."

"Yeah, well… It doesn't!"

It was the most aggravating thing in the world that, no matter how much I shouted, he remained as calm as ever. I wanted him to shout back, to scream, to tell me that I was wrong, to give me some feeling of injustice. This way he was just making me feel like I was fighting a one-sided battle and losing.

He stood there, still staring at me through calm eyes that somehow seemed filled with the same pain which I was shouting out through every syllable, until he finally said in that same hollow voice, "Is that all?"

"No, that is not all!" I continued yelling madly as I finally jumped up from my chair, not even knowing what else I had left to say. "You come waltzing in here thinking that you can just take advantage of me like this?" I demanded, hardly even knowing what words were coming out of my mouth or what they meant, "Well, you can't! I won't be shoved around as it pleases you, and I won't be –"

"I have absolutely no intention of doing any such thing, Andromeda. You should know that." He said, finally raising his voice for the first time so that he could be heard over my mad tirade.

"Yeah? Well – Well… I don't even know what your intentions are. As a matter of fact, I don't even know why I'm here! It would probably be better for us all if I just walked right out that door here and now. Then we wouldn't have to –"

Seeing the direction my words were leading me, he seemed to take things more seriously and moved several steps towards me, holding his arms out to me and saying sternly, "Now Andromeda, calm down – you're not thinking straightly. Here, come sit down again."

"No!" I objected, more loudly than I had intended. Catching myself, I lowered my voice to a more rational level and repeated, "No. I am thinking perfectly straightly – I'm thinking that the best place to be right now is away from here."

I took a few steps towards the door but he stopped me, putting one of his large, round hands on each of my shoulders, "Andromeda, please reconsider. You're upset, I know that – but please don't make a choice that you will regret later."

"Why would I regret it?" I asked, still defiant in tone, and yet allowing him to lead me back across from the door.

"Because," he said, "As uncomfortable and awkward as this whole thing might be, we both know that it is what is best for us all… and please don't forget about the baby."

I looked scrupulously up at him, "Do you say that because you really want the best for the baby, or just because you want to see your son grow up?"

He paused, and then said solemnly, "Both."


	22. My Denial

**Chapter Twenty-Two: My Denial**

* * *

I was woken by the sound of knocking and the mild call of, "Andromeda?"

I sat up slowly and looked around, "Yeah?" I said as I saw him, "What is it?"

"Nothing," he said, walking into the room, "I just wasn't sure if you were awake or not."

"Well I'm awake now," I said with a shrug, "And I'm sure it really isn't necessary for you to knock to get into your own living room."

He paused as he crossed the room, turning to look at me with a slight frown, "I still don't like that you're sleeping out here."

"Well tough luck," I said as I stretched my legs out over the side of the couch, "Because you are not going to get me into bed with you."

He shook his head slightly passively, "We both know it's not that." He said, "I just don't approve of the idea of my wife sleeping on the couch as if she doesn't belong."

"Well then, what do you pr–" I began, but stopped to rephrase my question, "What do you suggest that we do?"

He thought for a moment and then said, "That extra room in the back can be made in a bedroom. It really wouldn't be too much effort, I could just tidy it up and bring in another mattress."

"Yes, that's great." I said right away, jumping at the opportunity as it suited me, "You don't even have to do that much to it, I can just move right in. I mean, heck, I've been sleeping on a couch for goodness' sake, haven't I?"

"Oh, no," he objected, "I mean… Yes you have, but you don't have to do that."

"Then what…" I asked, confused by his contradictions.

"I was thinking that I would move in there and you could take my mother's old bedroom. You know… just to make things easier."

I was a little thrown off by his kindness, but accepted, "Yea, fine. That would be… great. But…"

"But what?" he asked.

"Well, do you really want to move out of that room? I mean, if it was your mother's…"

"Oh, it's nothing. Honestly, you would do better in there." He said, "Anyway, I suppose that you are my guest in a manner of speaking."

I nodded simply and added, "But then again, you are my spouse in a manner of speaking. I suppose we just don't do things the conventional way, do we?"

He laughed and started to leave the room before turning back one last time, "Oh, Andromeda; one more thing…"

"Yes?" I asked, turning towards him curiously. He didn't usually ask much of me.

"Could you, perhaps… call me by my name?"

I flushed strangely. I really shouldn't be that big of a deal, calling your husband by his name, but it was hard for me. I was still in partial denial about this whole thing, preferring to pretend I didn't know his name, that I wasn't married to him, that all of this hadn't actually happened. And at other times, I liked to pretend that he wasn't himself, but somebody else… the one whom I had loved, whose name I had never even known in the first place.

"I don't know – I suppose I could but… It's hard, it really is." I looked up at him earnestly.

He sighed, "I know it's hard, and I know it's awkward… but I need you to try. You don't even have to call me by my first name, just call me… something."

I bit my lip hard and nodded, "I'll try…"

Sometimes I just couldn't understand him… Tonks.

No matter how much time we spent in matrimony, I wondered if he would ever make sense to me.

I acted so cruelly towards him. So much that even I was appalled by my behavior at times. It isn't even that I was doing such horrible things, because I had certainly done worse in the past, both to him and others. What bothered me most was that, despite it all, he always treated me just the same.

He was… nice? I didn't know what the word was – nice didn't seem to capture it. It was a kind of strange sweetness that didn't alter no matter what I did. It was persistent and unyielding, whether I was being meagerly agreeable, or absolutely atrocious towards him.

Us being married, I would have called it love, but that would have bee foolish. I was sure that it was no such thing. Love was for… well, people who loved each other. Not us. Even if we were married, that didn't change a thing. I suppose he was just that kind of guy, always thinking and caring and… He was so sweet to me, he always was. It is almost a shame that we couldn't love each other.

That, however, was absolutely out of the question. It was as if there was a line drawn in the sand that separated us from that point. Love was a word never spoken under our roof, a silent rule that I didn't mind.

I preferred it that way. It was so much easier to be shut away from such dangerous boundaries, where choices and sacrifices and other things too terrible to think of have to be made. On the other side was a no-man's land which was better never to be entered, and I by far preferred my present situation.

As content as I was in the shape of it all, however, I was still greatly unhappy. Certainly, I was perplexed by my husband's behavior and relieved to be safe from dangerous territory, but I was still discontent in my situation and, as always, plagued with grief at my own miserable and sorry position in the world.

I was mortified over my disownment from my family, frightened by my sister's attitude towards me, humiliated to be found married to a muggle, hopeless to soon become a mother, and, the more that I dwelled on what was happening in the present, the more that everything in the past seemed to come back and haunt me.

I never seemed to be free from it – the tormenting, pulsating, terrifying, inescapable, everlasting torture that my life and deeds had become. What hope was left – what could possibly happen for the better of it?

But I could not stop it. I could not hold time still, or go back and correct what had gone wrong, or escape to another world. It went on. Whether by my control or someone else's, or nobody's at all, that which was done could not be taken back.

The time for the baby to be born was fast approaching. This was not even something that I could be in denial about – it was swiftly and inevitably closing in like a great storm which, though predicted, could not be stopped. I was living in hurricane territory and could not get out before it hit.

It felt so strange to see myself, round and almost ready, and yet not feeling any of it. Well, I felt the pain and the kicks and the aches, but not the most important one of all… I didn't feel like I was going to be a mother, like this could really be happening.

And yet it was. Many women try to remain in denial over being pregnant, but there comes a point where they all, even I – the greatest denier of them all, just have to give up and admit it is so.

The fortunate thing was that it didn't change much in my daily routine. This was in large part because I had so little routine to begin with. All day, pregnant or not, I would stay home, rejoicing in the time I had alone while my husband was away, hoarding the fridge, sitting in solitude, and reading a book or watching the old muggle television. The only thing that seemed to change was that the periods of fridge-hoarding became increasingly frequent.

And yet he always put up with me… He always found time to ask how I was doing, to try to make me feel better, and he seemed somehow to understand how I felt. He would try to do the little kind things for me, the kinds that he thought I might not notice. I tried to pretend not to, but it was difficult. To notice would be to acknowledge, which would mean to be grateful which would mean the risk of showing emotion, and perhaps that I really did care. It would be a weak thing to do, very weak.

So I went on, living in my hidden world, hoping that I would never be pulled out of it. And yet the more time passed, the more I came to see that change was quickly coming, denial or not.


	23. My Discovery

**Chapter Twenty-Three: My Discovery**

* * *

Tonks was starting to spend more and more time at home. He seemed to think that I wouldn't notice, but it was hard not to when every movement I made he seemed to expect the baby to come popping out.

He never said a word about it, nor did I, but I found his presence extremely intrusive. Worst of all, I was beginning to tell that he was worried. Worried about me? What silliness, I could take care of myself. Worried about the child? Well, perhaps. But I worried about that enough for the both of us – I didn't need his constant disruption and presence.

And yet it was when he was gone that things felt strangest of all. As much as I yearned to have space to myself, being alone didn't have the same freedom as it once had. When he was gone, the daunting emptiness of the house seemed to suffocate me in its fullness. It occurred to me that perhaps I was most alone when he was there. It didn't make sense, but as soon as I thought of it, but I couldn't shake the sense that it was true.

It was on one of those afternoons when I was alone, that is, the kind of alone when he wasn't there, that I made the most disturbing discovery. Mundane, yet disturbing.

I had been assigned the dreary task of making space in his mother's old room, now my own, for the coming baby. It was hard for me to come face to face with the concept that, in little less that a month, a little Tonks really would be sharing the room with me.

Doing my best not to think about the meaning behind the chore, I told myself it was just cleaning. No goal, no reason, just throwing out the rubbish. I took my time, emptying the drawers and shelves of the room, moving all of their useless sentimentalisms to Tonks' space.

It was a dull task, but every now and then there was something interesting to be found. Tonks' mother was evidently no woman of style, yet she did have a number of amusing little trinkets, strange muggle gizmos that made little sense.

As I made my repeated trips from my room to my husband's, depositing his mother's trifles, I became increasingly interested in his own possession. My journeys featured longer and longer stops, until I abandoned the pretense altogether and remained his room, exploring his belongings.

I couldn't explain quite why I was so fascinated in his things. It was as if they possessed some kind of charming mystique, the kind that I never saw when I looked at him, but I always seemed to sense when he was absent.

It is difficult to find yourself in the home and amidst the life of a stranger without developing a certain interest in the workings of their life. Still feeling that my husband was a near stranger, I was treated to this same sensation while living in my own home.

I knew I was spending more time in his room than I should, and found an excuse in the pretense of organizing his things. Of course, this was most unlike me, and I blushed in embarrassment at the thought of him finding me doing something that seemed so considerate. Seeking reassurance, I justified to myself that I was just making room to clear out the rubbish from my own room.

I soon saw that Tonks was messier than I would ever have imagined. Sure, I had been living in his home for months, and had spent the last week making frequent ventures in and out of his room, yet I never before seemed to have realized how much he was a… slob!

And for the first time, I realized that it bothered me. What a fool he was to be able to live with himself like this. I promptly set about reorganizing his entire room with dedication. Perhaps it was true that every man needed a woman in his life, mother or wife. Well, at least Tonks had me – whichever I might be.

That afternoon I felt that I had only scratched the topsoil, and I was determined to keep working until I saw thorough improvement. This kind of mess would never have been allowed in my family's house… Well, there was only so much I could do, but I would do what I could.

Looking over the room an hour later, I resolved that I would merely finish clearing off his desk and then be done for the day. It was just as I was putting the final touches on it, setting some things into the desk drawers and tossing others into the rubbish bin, that I picked up a scrap of parchment that really caught my attention.

I was moments away from tossing it, seeing that it was scribbled all over and looked like garbage, but I stopped myself when I saw what it said. It was split into two columns, and the top of one was labeled 'boys', the other 'girls.'

Thomas, Timothy, William, Andrew, Andros… Jen, Mona, Andy, Annie, Anna… It was a list of baby names.

Not even certain what I was feeling, I let myself drop down into the desk chair, grasping my head slightly and still staring at the paper… Baby names.

He had never said a word to me, and yet apparently he had been thinking about what was coming a lot more than I realized. Baby names… And as I stared at them, I realized that, the further down the list, the more the names began to resemble my own.

I felt a sudden flood of emotions – a rush of annoyed affection towards Tonks and confusion at his failure to speak to me and fear at the reality of what was coming.

It was not right… I couldn't really be a mother! Yes, I knew that I had gotten myself into this mess and I was fully aware that I was a ticking time bomb of pregnancy, yet the idea of motherhood was so distant and, well, not me.

I couldn't do it – there was no way I could go through with this. I knew that it was too late and there was no turning back now, no changing things. And yet my stubborn mind continued to insist on denial, on insolent hope.

I was a fool to think that he could live in this illusion. It was such a mess, and not of the kind that I had spent the day cleaning up… This was a mess that I knew I would never be able to clean enough.

I stared back at the scratch of paper, clutched tightly in my hand. I was able to faintly make out one of the names that had been scratched out, originally written near the top of the right side: Jackie.

Then variations of it on both sides – Jacqueline, Jack, Jay… And a little further down, Riley.

All written, and all scratched over, along with others that I wasn't able to make out. Then, they transferred into other names, names that had survived the wrath of his quill – boring, standard names, but names that did not hold pain for either of us. And then, even worse, they became others, names that resembled my own.

How had I been so clueless as to think that he had forgotten about her, that he didn't still dwell on her memory? I did my best not to think of the unfortunate woman whose identity I had donned on the tragic night of her death and our child's conception, but sometimes even I couldn't help the seeing her at night, haunted by images of her kidnap and, ultimately, murder. It disgusted me, and I couldn't even comprehend how Tonks could bear to live under the same roof as me, especially when he could have been married to her.

My head still swarming with such thoughts, I was alarmed to hear the sound of my pitiable husband apparating as he arrived home.

It was with his arrival that my hand instinctively snapped upwards, and I realized that my eyes were stained with tears, his note still clutched tightly in my hand. I was not ready to face him.

"Andromeda?"

Great, he was calling for me. I couldn't hide.

Resigned, I opened the door and walked out into the parlor. "Hello, Tonks," I said, trying to sound welcoming. I was never very good at that pretense.

"Are you alright, Andromeda?" He asked with concern, "You look as pale as a ghost."

Why did the fool have to be so considerate? "I'm fine," I said passively. I wished he would just disappear.

But I had to talk to him. I was never much of a talker and especially not to him, but I just had to.

He looked uncertainly at me and, cooperative as ever, did not question my assertion. Great, just what I needed – respect for my denial.

Nothing more to say, he began to turn away, by now used to our daily routine of facades and pretenses. "Wait, Tonks – " I said to stop him. He turned back with quiet surprise and I discovered that I did not know what to say. "Well… how was your day?" I fumbled.

I must seem a fool to him. He knew that I didn't give a squat about how his day was. He paused only a moment, then smiled in his deplorably sweet way, "It was nice."

I sighed. I couldn't help it. He was so difficult.

There was no point trying to get around it, I would have to speak my mind. But how?

"Well," he said to the awkwardness as he began to turn away, "Thanks for asking."

"Tonks, do you still think about her?" The words just tumbled out of my mouth before I had any hope of registering or stopping them.

"Sorry?" he asked, his attention unmistakably captured.

"Riley – Jackie… Do you still think about her?"

He stood stiff for a moment, for the first time looking truly uncomfortable. It was a blasted question – I already knew the answer, so what did I have to gain from asking it aloud?

Finally he replied, in a quieter and more distant voice, "I'm with you now."

"But it's not like that," I persisted, "You know it's not. You're with me and we're together and married and all, but you and her…"

"What are you trying to say?" He demanded, becoming surprisingly aggressive in his defense.

"Well, you loved each other, didn't you? You and her…" I said uncomfortably. I wasn't one to be talking about love, especially to my husband, but I knew it must be true, "You loved her…"

"I'm with you now." He repeated stolidly.

I should just drop it at that, I told myself. I had done enough damage, I should just leave him be. But I spoke too soon to stop myself, and the words felt far-off and muffled – perhaps I had swallowed them instead of saying them. But no, he heard me alright.

"We could name it after her, you know."

The moment that I spoke I knew that it had been stupid. I already knew that he didn't want to talk about this, but I pressed it anyway. I knew that he loved her and missed her, and I made it worse.

Still, he tried to subdue himself.

"Why on earth would you think of something like that?" he asked in mild incredulousness.

I had never known him to be so misleading; I thought that I was always the deceiving one. Of course, I could hardly blame him.

Extremely conscious of the wrinkled paper in my hand, I muttered apologetically, "Well, of course. I just thought…"

He shook his head abruptly, "Just don't think about things like that."

"But don't you…?" I began.

"I try not to."

There was nothing that I could say to that. What was I supposed to do? Shamed, I allowed him to leave me there alone.

The poor man.


	24. My Plan

**Chapter Twenty-Four: My Plan**

* * *

The baby name episode taught me a number of things.

First of all, I was reminded of the constant truth that Tonks had not forgotten his love for Jackie Riley or the pain that I had caused. I still couldn't tell if he blamed me or not, or if he ever had. It seemed impossible that any man could be put through what he had without blaming someone, and yet the way that he treated me was so conflicting. I didn't know what to make of it.

I also learned that my husband was more deceptive than he let on. I had always seen him as such a pure and sincere soul, and yet his clear denial of the truth I'd held in my hand disillusioned me to this view. I began to wonder if he had lied to me about anything else. It didn't seem possible, but now that the door was open that I was not the only liar in our home, the options seemed endless.

The final and most important thing that I drew from this was something that I'd always known one way or another: This wasn't right.

So many things were wrong that I could hardly bring myself to think of them. I was living with a man who I didn't love. I had married the man whose love I was responsible for killing. My family had abandoned me. I had no love, no hope, no life. There was nothing for me here.

Of course, there was certainly nothing for me on the outside either. I was vaguely aware of this but gave it little thought. In my mind I had nothing to lose. Even if life would be just as miserable elsewhere, at least there might be hope, perhaps I could recover… Here I was merely trapped, trapped within the confines of my own marriage, my home, my torments.

The more that I thought about it, the more that I knew it was true. I had to escape.

Of course, I never let this thought pass through my mind consciously. But it was always there, and I became increasingly aware of that overwhelming sense that my days here were numbered, and that the time was just ticking away until I found some way to burst free from it all.

In the end it was the baby that made me realize the authenticity of my situation and that was when the coherent thought first cleared my consciousness.

I was standing in the bathroom, hands clenched over my stomach in frustration at this child that seemed never to come. This child, which gave physical discomfort and pain to match my inner suffering. This child who was my curse, cornering me in this marriage and trapping me in this house. This child who, although innocent of any crime against me, I was somehow aware I would never be able to love. Not in the way that a mother was supposed to love a child.

I felt consumed by my growing headache and flipped open the cabinet, shuffling through things in desperation for some material consolation. Pills, pills, pills… The place was full of them. Tonks seemed to have bought every conceivable muggle drug that he could find, several of which I was relatively sure had nothing to do with my condition, in effort to help me. But I would never take the things.

Oh goodness, where was my potion? We had just gotten it supplemented the week before – surely it couldn't already be gone. Fumbling through the small tubes, I finally found it. Apparently my husband had moved it to the back once again in the hope that I would try one of his ridiculous treatments.

Picking up the vial, I felt a flood of relief. The potion could only help me so much, but at least it was something. But already I could tell it was nearly empty

I help it to the light, measuring with my eyes. No, there wasn't even enough left for another full swallow, and Tonks would surely refuse to take me back to get more so soon. Disgusted, I stared down at the blasted cabinet of pills that I knew he would insist I take instead.

Blast it all! Frustrated, I cast the vial aside, not even attempting to consume what little it contained.

I fell to the floor as tears that refused to fall welled up in my eyes. My head was throbbing, my gut was paining, the baby was stirring, and the worst pains of all couldn't be expressed in words and certainly weren't physical.

Oh, what could I do… what on earth?

I rocked back and forth, attempting to comfort myself. It was rare that I allowed my emotions to physically show, and I hated to think of what would happened had my husband or anyone else seen me like this.

My thoughts flashed to my sister, that divine being who held herself so high and spat so hard. What would she say if she saw me here like this? Of course, I had been the recipient of such harsh treatment by her for all of my life, yet I still cringed at the thought of her disgust and cruel words.

I thought of the rest of my family. No, there was nothing there… I had always been closest to Bella, and look how that had turned out. I would never be able to go to Cissy – as much of a princess as she had been to all of us, that was a one way bond. And I could not forget Bella's words – I was nothing to them now. I would like to think things were not as bad as my sister had led me to believe, but I was sure that I would have heard something from them by now if they still wanted me, if I still meant anything at all to them.

No, I was on my own. I was alone in my life and alone in the world – there truly was nowhere for me to go.

But it wasn't always like that… Sure, I had felt like an outsider for most of my life, but things hadn't always been as bad as they were now.

I thought vaguely back to my past. Even at Hogwarts, where I had isolated myself so drastically, there had been good times. As wrong as it may have been, I couldn't deny the draw and excitement I had experienced whenever I was with Estrella. And then there were the even more distant memories of Adriana, that poor, sweet girl… She had been one of the most positive influences in my life, and I didn't even know what had become of her.

And then there was home. Cold, stony home where the parents fought and drank and wouldn't speak. And yet the home where I ran laughing through the halls, youthfully ignorant of the curses that would keep me from happiness. Home where I had sisters and family. As dysfunctional as it all had been, it was still home – still family. If I had ever belonged anywhere in my life, surely it was there.

I sighed at my strange reminiscence of my forgotten and hated childhood. How peculiar that I would find myself so yearning for those unhappy days.

I shook my head resolutely. No, I would have to stop. Those days were long off and lost. I would have to cope with the present as it was: here in this house, with Tonks and this thing…

I looked down once again, conflicted, at the great mass that was my stomach. It worried me just to think about it, to look at it. I should sit down.

As much as I tried, I somehow could not keep memories of my past from returning to me. I knew that I must be idealizing them, that even if I could return I would be no happier, and yet at times I could hardly help but wonder…

Perhaps it would be better to return. It wasn't like I could lose anything from leaving this place. Especially if there was a home out there where I truly belonged.

My head spun with the possibilities and the arguments. I had been so sure that I couldn't return and that they wouldn't have me, but if there was a way…

I could try to explain. They never were the understanding sort, but I could try. After all, it hadn't even been my fault, none of it would have happened if not for Bella – she had arranged it, had put me in the situation, had killed Riley – she should at least acknowledge that. And if I could get Bella on my side, the others would surely follow suit. My mother had always been the blindly stubborn one and she was gone now. Narcissa surely couldn't be too difficult, she had always been a gentle soul, going where she was told. And father… well, who knew about him.

It struck me for a moment just how little I knew of my family. Our connections having been broken off, I struggled for a decent recollection of the lot. Images of Cissa swam in my mind, but she was so young in all of them. She must have grown so much since then, but I hardly knew what she had become. And the same stood for father, always brash and reliably inconsistent. How had he reacted to the news of my marriage?

So much was unknown, so much was distant… Was this the only reality that I had? Perhaps not, but it was the one that I desired, that I missed.

I forced myself to quench my doubts and assured myself that there was a place for me in that world somewhere, one way or another.

My heart fluttered with hope as I recalled a long-forgotten memory of my mother's funeral. There had been a boy, a Black cousin who I met there. He was a charming young thing, and distant enough that perhaps he had not been affected by my disownment in the same way. What was his name? I could not remember, but he was a reminder that there were others to turn to if my family would not accept me back.

I would be free at last. Free from this mess that had grown around me. Free from my life confined to this suffocating home. Free from my guilt over what happened to that poor woman and how much it scarred Tonks. Free from that husband and his never-ending stability and faith in me. And free from this thing that lived inside of me…

With a rush, a realized what it was all about: the child.

This child had been eating at my body and my soul as it grew within me, consuming a greater and greater part of me as it grew. But it would not enslave me for much longer – I would be free.

Trapped as I had been in pregnancy, I would not be trapped in motherhood in the same way. The truth occurred to me with blinding glory. I could leave the child.

That was it, I could leave the child. It was a revolutionary idea, that I could be liberated from this thing that had so weighed me down. But it was true. I did not want the child and I did not need it.

I could leave it behind with Tonks. Yes, that was it.

It was the best thing to do, for all of us.

I would be a dreadful mother to the child. They say that a child needs its mother, but this baby would certainly be better off without me. And so would Tonks. I had only given him pain by staying with him, and the first decent thing I could to for him would be to free him from that pain. And I could free myself as well.

Yes, it was surely the best thing to do. For all of us.


	25. My Visitor

**Chapter Twenty-Five: My Visitor**

* * *

It wasn't very long after that that I developed my plan. Once I had decided that I really was going to leave, everything else seemed to fall into place.

I would have to wait some time before I did it, and every day seemed to pass more slowly, but I knew that it was a necessity.

I had to take into account how hard my departure would be on Tonks and although it did not stop me from leaving, I did do my best to make things better for him.

For his sake I knew that I couldn't just bolt out right away, leaving him with the newborn child. The poor man wouldn't know what to do with it, and would hardly be able to take care of a baby. I may have felt more at ease if I knew that he had somebody else to turn to and take care of the child, but as it was no such connection existed.

And so I decided that, in my desire to do what was best for us all, I would stay for the first months or year or however long it would take until I felt that he would be able to handle caring for the child on his own. If nothing else, I would stay just to nurse the child. I did not relish the idea, but it seemed to be the least that I could do after all that I had put him through. I would be able to get through it knowing that it wasn't forever.

It did not occur to me that the time spent with my infant child would soften my heart and give me the will to stay. In my mind no strong connection would possibly be able to exist between myself and this child, who seemed to belong more to Jackie Riley than myself.

Nothing would change once the child was born. I would merely transfer from one form of entrapment to another, from pregnancy to motherhood. But I would not be ensnared for long, and the promise of freedom seemed so sweet to me that I didn't care how long I had to wait.

As seemed to be the case with every plan that I had set in my life, this one didn't last long. The manner in which it fell to pieces, however, was a surprise in that in arrived the shape of a face that I never thought I would see again.

The mere occurrence of a knock on the door at ten o'clock in the morning was surprise enough. I rarely got visitors, and never before my husband returned home.

Uncertain of what to expect, I stalled a moment, wondering whether whoever it was would just go away if I stayed quiet and still.

In response to my silence the knock repeated itself.

Gathering myself, I told myself it was silly to be such a coward, and crossed the room to the door, preceded by the mass that was my protruding child.

I opened the door and stared with perplexity at my visitor. Then, after a moment, her identity registered and I stood even more frozen, staring even more blatantly.

She too, stood still and silent, though not petrified in the same way as I. Finally, she spoke up, "Andromeda?" she said, seemingly surprised at the sight of me. "Oh goodness, I didn't really expect… To see you again after all these years! You do remember right? It's me, Adriana…"

"I know who you are." I spoke quickly. "I just don't understand… What are you – ?"

The girl gathered herself, taking a breath, "May I come in?"

I didn't speak a word in the affirmative or negative, but stood aside, allowing her to pass into the house.

She looked around herself at the surroundings of my home. She sat down on an armchair, smoothing her skirt out with grace and ease.

She was so beautiful. It was hard to comprehend. I hadn't seen her for years, to the point that it filled me with wonder that she even still existed. But here she was, as alive as anything, and so picturesque. She had always been a demure and sweet girl, but now she was a woman. And a full, confident, beautiful woman at that. It seemed that all of the things that I imagined would happen to me when I got older had happened to her. She was so beautiful…

"It's good to see you," I finally said, my tone caught between gentleness and unwillingness.

She nodded, apparently uncertain what to say to me.

I stared at her a moment longer. I was able to see so much in her. I remembered how I had hurt her so deeply long ago, but she seemed to have recovered from that and more.

I spoke quite suddenly, surprising myself with my eagerness "So how have you been?" I demanded, "I mean, what have you been up to? Are you married, have kids…? I want to know everything."

She shrugged, "There's not that much to say," she said. "But t looks like you have plenty to tell." She indicated my bulging stomach.

I shook my head quickly, "It's nothing, really."

"Nothing?" She pressed in mild disbelief.

"Well, I mean… It's a long story."

"I'm all ears."

Again, I shook my head. She didn't want to know about me. She wouldn't understand. And I didn't want her to know.

But she did not seem content to leave it at that. Switching gears slightly, she inquired, "Is it true, then – you and Ted?"

"Sorry?" I said. Sorry? What a silly thing to say. "I mean, yeah. Ted and I… I guess it's part of that long story."

She sighed. "Wow… When I first met Ted I would never have believed it. And I would never have thought this day would come either."

"Wait a minute…" I said, "When you first met him?"

"Well, yes," she replied with a smile.

I frowned for a moment, "Adriana, why exactly are you here?"

"What, you don't know?"

"Of course not! What on earth am I supposed to know?" I demanded in mounting annoyance.

Adriana did not speak for a moment. She seemed to be considering either what or exactly how much she was going to tell me. Then, she spoke. "I met Ted years ago, but we were only in a touch for a while and didn't really see much of each other. But then a few weeks ago we ran into each other and got to talking. He mentioned his wife and did say your name, but not much more. You see, he really wanted to know about me."

I rolled my eyes slightly. Yup, that was my husband alright – the sweet guy who would always rather talk about somebody else than himself. Or, apparently, his wife. "Well I'm sure that must have been a thrilling conversation," I said bitingly.

She looked offended for a moment, which a shameful part of me delighted in, but went on. "You see, he really seemed very interested in what I had to say, and I told him all about it. We had to part soon after that, but it wasn't until after he left that I realized what an asset he could be and decided to come here to talk to him about joining."

"Joining what?" I demanded, staring stonily at her. I liked every word that she said less and less.

She seemed to waver a moment, taking in my reception of her words, but then spoke again, a little more quickly. "You see, after everything that's been happening I realized that something's got to be done and somebody's got to do it. And I – well, joined a resistance movement."

"A resistance movement?" I repeated in disgust. "To what?"

"Oh, please don't be so naïve, Andromeda," she implored. "You can't pretend that you haven't seen it all happening – the disappearances, the deaths, the accidents… and it's all getting worse as we speak – they've got to be organizing."

"You're insane," I muttered dismissively.

"Insane?" Adriana repeated in disbelief. "How can you call me insane and just go on ignoring it like this? This isn't going to go away if everybody just hides in their little holes."

"Sure it will," I said stubbornly, "Things like this happen all the time. Everybody's just overreacting now."

Adriana stood up, an unbecoming look of disgust on her face. "Do you really believe that," she asked, "or are you denying this on purpose?"

"Denying it?" I let out a laugh that didn't sound nearly as confident as I had hoped. "Why would I be denying anything?"

She stood still for a moment, again seeming to consider how much to tell me, and again seemed to give in. With resignation, she pulled a copy of the Daily Prophet out from her bag and thrust it at me.

The front cover had a photograph of a child, a boy maybe six years old, writhing in contortion. It was a disgusting sight and I tried to look away, but not before I caught sight of the headline: CHILD TORTURED – BLACK FAMILY ACCUSSED.

"He was a muggle-born." Adriana said solemnly, "He was in hysterics, but he identified your sisters."

"That's ridiculous!" I said, "I mean, It's impossible… I know Narcissa would never – "

"And Bellatrix?" Adriana asked quickly.

I said nothing. I would not give her the satisfaction of being right. "Even if it is true – which I'm sure it isn't," I said, "They'll never be able to prove it. He was only a boy, after all… And if he was in hysterics, as you said, who can believe a word he says?"

She nodded sadly, "You are very right. That is more or less the stand that the Prophet takes."

"So there," I said smugly, "I told you there was nothing in it."

Adriana shook her head gravely, "Just because the public doesn't believe it doesn't mean it isn't true."

I stared at her. "So it's true then, is it? You really have become one of them – a muggle lover."

She drew back, stung by my words, "Andromeda, don't say it like that – that poor boy hadn't done anything wrong. He was merely a muggle-born, just like me. What if it had been me who had been tortured – would you still be defending your sister then?"

My chest flared up in defensive anger as she spoke, "Don't you go trying to make this about Bella!"

"Oh, Andromeda," she said, "I thought you had changed, you married Ted and everything… Please don't tell me you still feel the same about her."

I felt myself hardening as she spoke, despite the truth in her words. I did, after all, hate Bella for all that she had done to me, how she had destroyed me and left me. And yet some part of me couldn't bring myself to fully reject her.

"She is a greater person than I will ever be."

"Don't say things like that, Andromeda – don't you see?" She seemed to be begging me to come down from some high-up, dangerous place. "You don't realize what you are saying? You are a good person. Just look at you, you are gong to be giving life – and at the same time she is out there taking it. How can you possibly say that she is better than you?"

I shook my head. She was right, I knew that she was right. But I didn't want to accept it and I didn't want her to know. "You don't understand," was my only grunted, selfish remark.

"Oh, Andromeda…" She said, looking at me and shaking her head gravely. She pitied me. I could tell that she pitied me. And I hated it.

"Can't you just give up?" I asked in a disgruntled tone.

"Give up?" She repeated, "Of course not! Don't you see? I'm trying to tell you that you're a good person."

I shook my head sharply, "No. You don't know that – you don't know me." How on earth could she tell me that I was a good person? She had no idea…

Adriana sighed, "Maybe you are right – I don't really know you. But I did. And that was enough to tell me who you really are – on the inside. And yes, you are a good person."

She said it so strongly, with such compassion and faith… I was almost forced to believe her. She seemed to believe herself. Oh goodness, she was so beautiful. Beautiful and lovely and smart and fortunate and happy… I felt simultaneously jealous of and happy for her.

My mind flashed with detached thoughts of a distant life. Times when I was just as happy, times when I was with her. And then, even more painful, visions of a future I once thought I'd have, in which I was just as blessed and happy. It hurt me so much because I knew it could never be mine.

"Why did you come back?" I finally asked, looking back up at her, my voice hoarse. "After all these years… why?"

She did not speak for a moment. "I didn't come back for you – you know that. I'm here because Ted –"

"Ted, Ted," I mocked, waving a hand extravagantly, "Of course, Ted. It's what you said."

"I'm sorry." She replied simply.

"Yeah? What am I to do? You're just trying to do your duty as resident good person of the world by ensnaring my husband into helping you fight against people like me."

"People like your sister!" She said sharply, trying to make me understand.

"Still, my people." My face was set, my tone was set, my heart was set. I didn't care what she had to say now. She wasn't here for me – she had said so herself. Whatever we had had in the past was lost. I could see that now.

I stood up, unsure what I was supposed to do – did I keep talking or back away, shout at her or hug her?

"Please go," was all that I could bring myself to say. "Please go… I don't want to see you."

She was hurt. I knew that she was hurt. All that I had ever managed to do was hurt her. The poor, sweet, innocent, thing. She meant no harm, but harm is what she got.

She did not object, but stood sadly in compliance with my wish and headed towards the door. "I'll be back, you know." She said over her shoulder, "For Ted…"

I said nothing. There was nothing that I could say. I could tell her not to bother and that Ted would never join her and that I would never let him. I could tell her that I would kill one of them before she entered my house again. I could even tell her that I was going to leave Ted and join my sister. I could tell her a lot of things, but I didn't. I couldn't.

I stood still and let her leave. I felt her presence linger in the doorway as she gazed back at me, surely contemplating the shame that was my life. Yes, I was a shame. But it didn't matter. Right now all that mattered was that she left.

I couldn't let her see me cry.


	26. My Escape

**Chapter Twenty-Six: My Escape**

* * *

That was it. The final straw.

Yes, that decided it.

It was final. For good. No going back.

I wasn't going to give the matter another moment of my thoughts.

So why was I still here?

I paced up and down my room, wringing my hands and pulling my hair. Up and down, up and down, up and down.

That was it – no more!

But no matter what I said, I couldn't seem to convince myself, to believe myself.

I finally sat down on the edge of my bed, my hands clutched tightly together. This was it. No more thinking, no more deciding, no more doubting. I was really going to do it this time. But could I?

Could I really? This thing that I had been weighing in my mind and torturing myself over? This thing that I had promised would end my miserable condition? Could I really do what I must to make it happen?

It was one thing to say that you needed to escape, to plan to do so in a month or a year. After the child has come, after the husband could handle himself, just a little longer…Yes, that was one thing. But it wasn't the real thing.

I was slowly beginning to see the difference between the easy and difficult things in life. Between making a plan and to following through with it. Between doing it when it is safe and when it was necessary. Between living with a broken heart and breaking someone else's.

Adriana's visit had been very hard on me.

I had never thought that I would see that girl again. That lovely, sweet girl, the unforgettable face from my past. I had loved her; I knew that now. But seeing her again was a thousand times more painful than I could have ever imagined. It reminded me both that I once could have been happy, and also of just how far away that time was.

Now I was stuck in the vast expanse of my tormented, unsettled mind. Whatever was I supposed to do?

The moment that Adriana left, I had known that I had to act. Truth be told, it was simply all too much for me. So I thought escape. It was the only thing that I could think. I am beginning to fear that all I have ever had the strength to do is run from my troubles. Perhaps it is true.

Not only did seeing Adriana make me remember a time when I had the potential for happiness, it opened my eyes to the truth of the present. It was a shock enough to learn that my husband knew Adriana, but to learn the circumstances of their relationship and why she was coming really caught me off guard.

In a way I couldn't explain, I almost felt betrayed. It stung almost as much as the time I first learned that he was a mudblood. He may not have meant to hurt me, but the cause he was choosing to support went against everything that I was supposed to stand for. With every choice that he made he was making it less likely that I would ever be accepted by my family again.

My family, many of whom I hadn't seen in years… But that was going to change, wasn't it? Well, that was the plan. I was going to run away from this desolate life and return to them, to the life in which I belonged.

Run away. The plan. Belonging.

It all flashed through my mind, so clear and then smeared, like rain flowing down a freshly painted canvas.

I couldn't stand to stay there for a moment longer, trapped, trapped, trapped.

My plan to wait until Ted and the baby could stand on their own seemed feeble and foolhardy. If I waited that long who was to say that I wouldn't be caught waiting longer, and longer, longer.

I didn't want this baby. I knew that. I wouldn't be able to stand to watch it grow up as the reflection of its father and would-be mother. I didn't want the baby, but I didn't want Ted either. For now there was no complete freedom. If I stayed I would be stuck with them both. If I ran I would be stuck with the baby.

Well then, the only choice was clear: to run. I would shed this life and husband while I could and escape. I would be stuck with the baby, perhaps for life, but maybe it wouldn't be as bad as it seemed. I might learn to love the child after all, at least more than I could ever love Ted. Or perhaps there was another way – I could almost see the gentle Narcissa of my past reaching out to care for the child. She could do it. Anyone could do it but me.

Yes, I had to go. I wouldn't get anywhere by staying here. I didn't care what happened to the child or myself, I just needed to be gone. Yes, it was decided. I would leave.

So why was I still here?

No matter how many times I said it, out loud or in my mind, I couldn't get myself to open that door, to step outside. My mind was set, my suitcase was packed, so why couldn't I just leave?

I stayed in the front room all day long – sitting and standing, pacing and crying.

Finally, one hand clutching the suitcase and the other my belly, I fell into a sleep of resigned defeat.

It was late at night when I woke up. My head was pulsing and my leg was cramped. I stood up, feeling slightly disoriented, taking a moment to remember where I was.

Half a thought at a time, recollection of that afternoon's dilemma returned to me.

First the memories of Adriana came, followed by the certainty in my gut that I had to leave. Before I had a chance to take in any of the doubts and fear that followed, I was heading for the door.

I was doing it. I was actually doing it! I could hardly believe it, but I knew in my blood – no, my bones, that it was right.

I walked out of the room in the same manner that I had slept – suitcase in one hand, the other resting on my belly.

This was it – escape, at long last! No more loneliness, no more self-pity, no more wallowing in my own misfortune. It was time to turn over a new leaf, time to begin a new life. I was going, going – nearly there!

I stopped. I froze. I couldn't go on.

No, I hadn't doubted myself again. Something worse had happened – my husband.

There he was, sitting in the dark of the parlor. There was no light in the room, but I could tell from the moonlit silhouette that it was him. How long had he been there? What was he doing? Did he know what I was up to? Was he even awake?

Whatever the answers, I couldn't afford to give myself away. Even if he had reason to expect that something was up, he certainly couldn't prove it and I had no reason to make it easier for him. Except for the suitcase I carried in my hand…

Under the cover of the darkness I bent over just enough to let the suitcase touch the ground as quietly as possible, hoping desperately that he wouldn't notice.

Not saying a word and not looking straight in his direction, I crossed the room calmly, standing against the window. I walked proudly, my back straight. I was not going to let him penetrate me – not now.

Better yet, I was going to be in control, just this once. Not passive Andromeda anymore, I took initiative.

"You're up awful late," I said slyly, still not looking in his direction as I gazed out the window.

He did not speak. I wondered if it was because he suspected something of because he could sense something different in me. I was already proud of my new self.

Still, he did not say a word. I would not press the matter, nor ask him what he was doing. If he really did know what I was up to, it was certainly not in my interest for either of us to address the matter.

I did not speak right away. I trusted that the silence was having its own effect on my husband. I continued to stare outside into the darkness. It was not much of a view, but I forced myself to remain occupied with it for the time being, if only for dramatic effect.

Finally, it seemed that the awkwardness had grasped my husband tightly enough to force him to say something. "What are you looking at?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing really…" I said. There really wasn't much to see other than the next house, crammed up as close as possible to ours. It wasn't that exciting of a neighborhood to live in, and it certainly wasn't much to look at after nightfall. All the same, I found something to single out, just to keep the conversation rolling in my favor. "The stars… They seem particularly brightly, don't you think?"

"Yes, I suppose so," he said. There wasn't much that he could say in response and I liked it that way. In a funny sort of way, it sort of made me feel like I had some sort if control over him.

"But I suppose that every star must fade someday," I said with a twisted smile.

He did not respond right away, "Perhaps… But not in our lifetime."

"Does it matter how long they last if they cannot last forever?" I snapped.

"Of course it does," he said in his kindly, understanding way. "The same constellations have acted as guides for thousands of years and they will continue to do so."

I felt sour at his predictable optimism. It was just that sort of compassion that led me to hate the fool so much at times "Well…" I said, searching for words, "I can hardly see what kind of good it does. They can be no better guides than they were to the ancients who desperately made up stories as if it would do some kind of good."

"But it did do good," Ted asserted, in his ever so infuriating way, "It explained the world to them and showed them how to act. With gods, heroes, monsters…"

"You know, I was named after one of them – Andromeda."

Oh, what a stupid thing to say. Just like that I had exposed myself, allowed him to take control. What was I to do now… What would Bella do?

"Andromeda?" Ted repeated, "Yes, I vaguely remember… Rather a dark story, wasn't it?"

"Yes, terribly dark," I said, still not turning to look at him, though I knew he was observing me intently. "She was a princess… punished, left as sacrifice to a terrible monster – a punishment that she hardly deserved. And all for the actions of her mother, her family."

As I spoke, the parallels between that ancient story and my own seemed to reveal themselves to me more than ever before.

"But she was saved, wasn't she?" Ted asked, "Surely she was – by a god or a hero… They wouldn't have just left her to that fate."

I said nothing. I knew the ending to the story, that she was indeed saved by a hero and whisked away to be wed. But I would not repeat that ending to Ted, not in a thousand years.

Instead, I retorte darkly, "It hardly matters, does it? No matter what happened to her in the end, she still wouldn't forget the wrong that had been done to her. Or the fear or the pain."

I was lost in my own reflection of the joint hardships of myself and Andromeda, so much that I didn't notice that he was no longer sitting in his chair, but had come to join me at the window.

He was trying to comfort me with his gentle presence and then, even more obtrusively, with his own arms. He wrapped them around me, soothing me so sweetly in that way that I so despised. "But that doesn't mean that the princess doesn't deserve her happy ending," he whispered.

"But – " I attempted, only to have him silence me gently, running a soothing hand down my arm.

Oh… I hated it! He was so sweet and sympathetic. It was almost as if he genuinely cared for me, truly wanted me to feel better… But no, that wasn't right. Even if it was true, I couldn't allow it. I was supposed to be getting away from all of this, I couldn't let him get to me now.

I broke away from him decisively, leaving him standing alone. I couldn't let this happen. But looking back at him, so simple and so sincere, I could hardly bear to stand it.

"You knew, didn't you?" I finally said, accusingly. The words came out before I had time to ask myself what I was accusing him of, as I knew in my heart that I was the guilty one.

He did not speak for a moment, but finally said, "If you are asking if I am less ignorant as you thought, then yes – I knew."

I stood erect, my brow wrinkled. "How?" I demanded.

He stood there and I wondered if, like me, he was debating with himself how much he ought to tell his stranger of a spouse, "I spoke to Adriana."

"Of course…" I said. I had been a fool to think that my old friend would not betray me. She had such a pure heart that she would surely have run to Ted with all of her worries, and he would have known that I would do something rash. Of course he would have known.

"She's a good person," my husband said gently. "She really just wants to help – she doesn't mean any harm."

"No, someone like her wouldn't," I said darkly. More and more, I was finding it difficult to cope with what 'good people' they all were. "Is it true that she wants you to go gallivanting off with her and her friends?"

"Yes, it's true."

"Well, I don't approve," I said stubbornly. I hardly thought that he would give a damn whether I approved or not, but while I was still here I wasn't going to hold back from saying what I thought. "What's the point anyway? If they are anything like her, they are all just a bunch of kids who are going to get very hurt playing with fire."

"I think they're good people," he said, delicately trying not to come off as aggressive, "And they're trying to do the right thing. There are bad people out there – "

"Yeah, people like me," I said, just as I had responded to Adriana.

"That's not true," he maintained, "You are just hurt, and confused…" I turned away slightly, not wanting him to see my face in case I betrayed myself. I hated hearing him talk so openly about me like this. "But if joining these people is the right thing to do, shouldn't I do it?"

"The right thing…" I repeated, mostly to myself. Who was I to say what the right thing was? All of my life I had failed to do the right thing. Tagging along after Bella was never right, hiding myself away from the world wasn't right, killing Riley wasn't right, allowing myself to be forced into an unfortunate marriage wasn't right… and certainly now, leaving it wasn't right either.

"Sometimes," I said hoarsely, trying to convince both myself and my husband at once, "The right thing isn't always the best thing."

"You mean the easy thing?"

I snapped my head at him, staring him over, scrutinizing. "What are you trying to say?" I demanded.

"Well… he proceeded cautiously, "Just because something is right doesn't mean that it is easy – It could be truly difficult. Challenging, painful… It could be the worst thing that you ever do in your life. But that doesn't mean that it isn't right, that you shouldn't do it."

I hated hearing his words, so filled with patience and understanding. My head spun, trying to balance out what was being said. The right thing may not be easy, and pain may be for the best… Running from pain was easy, but was it best? It obviously wasn't right, at least by Ted's measure.

So what was I supposed to do? Was I supposed to do the best thing and run, or do the right thing and stay? Was any of that right? Would I be free from pain either way? I could hardly tell up from down any more – how was I supposed to keep straight the difference between right and wrong?

I fell into the nearest chair, running my hands through my hair in aggravation. It was too late for me to be thinking about things like this – I should already be gone, far far from here. And yet I remained, tormented by myself and my husband.

"And I believe that even you, if you had the chance," he went on, "would truly choose to do the right thing as well."

I sighed, dropping my hands from my head and letting my hair fall, unkempt. "What are we even talking about?" I said in weary resignation.

"We're talking about whatever we need to be talking about." He paused, then came a little closer to me, squatting down by my seat, "Andromeda, is there something that we need to be talking about?"

"Why?" I finally demanded, voicing my muddled frustration.

"I'm sorry?" he said.

"Why do you act so – how can you do it?"

He was so close, kneeling there just feet away. So close, and yet I could hardly fathom what was happening in his distant mind…

"I'd think it was obvious," he said, looking up at me with those deep eyes of his, "I do it because I love you."

"No…" I insisted, "You're just saying that – you don't mean it… do you?"

I sat, puzzling by my own confusion. Of course he didn't mean it. How could he ever love me? It was crazy, simply crazy. Our relationship, our marriage, was a lot of things, but it had nothing to do with love, I knew that much. Or at least I thought I did…

Again, I attempted to voice my thoughts aloud, but I could hardly say anything intelligible. Finally I said, fighting back tears my hopeless search, "What is love?"

He was looked at me strangely, almost like he had never really met me. No, that wasn't it. More like he had never really known me. And that much was true – we had lived together for all of these months and yet I don't think that either of us knew the first thing about the other.

At long last he spoke, "Haven't you ever felt love?"

I stiffened slightly in my seat. How was I supposed to answer that, and to my husband of all people? All the same, I considered.

Well, I knew that I didn't love him, for a start. It may sound harsh, but I could never call what we had love. But had I ever felt love? I had to think back for that one…My thoughts flew to my childhood, my unhappy, cold childhood. Memories of Bella and Narcissa and my parents flew through my mind. Always fighting, always hurting, always silent. No, that wasn't it…

An image of Adriana appeared before my mind's eye. Sweet, innocent Adriana. Perhaps I had loved her. But no, she was a memory too freshly painful to consider – I would not dwell on it now.

I continued to wrack my mind for something that I could call love. Love, love, love… Then a long forgotten memory occurred to me. A devilish handsome young man, a group of friends, a corpse on the school grounds… I had never spoken a word too him, and yet at the time it seemed so real. It seemed foolishness to look at that and call it love, and yet to me it had seemed so real at the time.

"Yes," I said faintly, "Once, I think I did… But it didn't last and they took him away. They hurt him and they killed him. And they hurt me." These memories were from a past so distant that I was surprised they still caused me pain, and yet their recollection brought me shivers and the faint echo of tears.

"It's not worth it," I said, more strongly this time, and much more harshly. "The sorrow, the pain… It's not worth what you lose. You have to… you have to force yourself to let go." I thought of Bella, "Love is only for the weak, and pain is for the weak…."

And yet I didn't fully believe my words. A foolish part of me still believed that love, if it was true, if it was pure, was the most worthwhile thing that could possibly be experienced.

All of this talk of love and I could almost feel the weakness in me exposing itself, but I couldn't stop it now.. Turning back to Ted, I said asked suddenly, "Do you really love me?"

"Do I have any choice?"

"Well, of course you do," I cried in outburst, "I mean, I don't have to love you!"

Something darkened in his face and he turned away.

"Oh Ted, I'm sorry…"

I wanted to apologize, to be able to show some of the compassion he so effortlessly gave me. I had hurt him, I could tell that. He stood up and walked away, returning to stand by the window as before, now with his back to me.

I wondered briefly if he was looking at the stars as I had been, or if had merely sought out something other than me to look at.

I sat quite still, forcing my thoughts to settle and watching him expectantly. I had already made enough of a mess of things. There was nothing I could say to make it better. All that I could do was wait for him to speak. Unless, of course, he went on standing there, his back to me, not saying a word for the rest of time – which I was beginning to think wasn't so unlikely given the circumstances.

Finally, however, he did speak. It was a good thing that I was fully focused on him, because otherwise I may not have heard or understood him. Standing there, still looking intently away from me asked said quietly, "But could you love me?"

"Sorry?" I said. I had expected anger or dejection, but not this.

"I said, could you love me?" he repeated. "I didn't love you at first either, but I learned… Could you?"

Having re-orientated myself to situation, I rose immediate objections, "Don't be ridiculous, that's not what this is all about – "

"Maybe not, but I need to know," he interjected, suddenly turning back to me.

I felt much weaker under the scrutiny of his gaze, "You don't understand…"

"Please, Andromeda," he said, "Don't tell me what I don't understand – because I do. I know what you've been through – I've been through much of it myself. And I understand your pain – "

This time, I actually laughed, "Don't be ridiculous. You couldn't possibly…"

"You may not think so, but I do," he testified, standing strong against my defenses, "I see it, hell, I feel it every time I look at you."

At this I fell silent. Nothing to say, no objection. What could I say?

"Ted…" I whispered.

Ted… Had a seriously called him that? Ted… I never called him by that name, his name. Was this the first time? How long had I been doing it? Had I really not noticed – had anybody else noticed? Did any of this matter one bit?

I was so occupied by my thoughts and disoriented by my feelings that I hardly noticed registered that I began crying. I did notice, however, when he leapt forward and wrapped his arms around me once again.

"No," I cried, nearly hysterical amid my tears, "I don't need you to comfort me!" I tried to struggle free, but it was a half-hearted effort and I knew he wouldn't let me go. I didn't need this… I did not want it… and I sure didn't deserve it. "Please, just leave me be…" I whimpered.

But he did not oblige me. He held me even more tightly in his arms. It was not threatening in any way, but his compassion was more painful than hatred.

"No." he said steadily, "I'm not going to let you suffer any longer."

For a moment my defenses dropped, as I stopped struggling and looked up, astonished, into his eyes.

He meant it.


	27. My Child

**Chapter Twenty-Seven: My Child**

* * *

I had been pregnant for so long that I nearly forgot that, eventually, this baby would actually come.

Indeed, I had been pregnant for the entirety of my married life, and it seemed too surreal to believe that the day would come when it would end.

But the day did come, and I could hardly have been ready for it.

The birth was wild flurry of emotional and physical responses outpacing each other. I wanted the baby to be out, but I didn't want it to be now. The pain was too much, but knew I deserved it. I wanted to be alone, but I didn't want my husband to leave my side.

Regardless, Ted kept by me through everything. He helped me, supported me. He was there when I cried out for him and when I pushed him away. I hated him for loving me so much, but there was nothing I could do and, in a way, I was glad. Not happy, but glad.

When it was all over I was finally left alone. I was exhausted, and deeply grateful that they made him wait outside and let me rest. Maybe they knew that I couldn't fully relax with him there. Or maybe he did.

I did not want to rest, didn't want to even be there a moment more. My hands lingered over my stomach, still trying to bring themselves to believe what had happened. Had I really carried a child? Was it really gone now? I couldn't make sense of any of it… Rest – I needed rest.

But when my mind would not settle, how on earth could my body? It spun with the business of the absence of thought. I felt that a thousand ideas were passing before my brain, but that it was unable to reach out and grasp a single one of them.

My head fell back into the pillow, my hands still resting on my center, which was suddenly hauntingly empty. Had there really been a child? I would not believe it… No, I could not believe it – not until I saw it. Had I seen it? I had heard it, but that had been in a very distant reality.

I did not want them to open that door again. I did not want Ted to come back, did not want to see my child. I had gone through with it. I had stayed, I had given birth to the child. Now could it all be over?

No, it was never over.

On the contrary, it was more frighteningly real than ever.

A girl. They had said that I had a girl. A little baby girl. With those words my ordeal went from something abstract and almost imaginary to an unavoidable truth. There was no more hiding, no more pretending. I had a baby girl.

Could it really be possible? A girl… A baby! That was it then, wasn't it? That made me, Andromeda, a mother. A concept very hard to grasp, but nothing compared to the wonder and mystery of a baby. A child. My own.

Oh, I wish they would bring the child to me – I had to see it to believe it!

Finally, I fell into the frenzied dizziness of sleep, my mind overwhelmed with half emotions.

When I woke up I was no longer alone. Ted was in the room, sitting in a chair several feet away. He did not notice me wake, and at first I said nothing, keeping as still as I could. I was not yet ready to face the reality that would come with acknowledging him. Please, just let me sleep a little longer…

I turned my head slightly to the side so that I could see him as I lay in pretense. That man who was my husband… For a crazy moment it occurred to me that I must be one of the luckiest women in the world to have a man like him. But at the same time, I knew that I was far from it – so tortured, so selfish.

He deserved so much better than me. He deserved someone who would take care of him and love him as he deserved, not treat him like I had. And yet I knew he would never leave me. He was too good, just like Adriana. I had been so lucky to have that girl be a part of my life, even for such a short time. I couldn't fathom how I had gotten a second chance here with Ted.

"Andromeda?" He whispered suddenly, giving me a start. I wondered how I had betrayed myself but, for once in my life, I did not fight him.

"Are you alright?" he asked eagerly.

"I'm fine…" I said, pulling myself up slightly straighter. Right away, I asked the question which had been pressing on my mind, although I had not acknowledged it, "How's the baby?"

"She's fine," Ted said. "They say she's going to be beautiful… I wanted to wait for you to wake up though, to ask you…"

I looked at him with frown, "To ask me what?" What more could they possibly want from me?

"Well, they want to know what her name will be."

"Her name…" There was a trial that I had almost forgotten. I had cast the whole idea of Ted's list I had found from my mind once I decided to leave, certain that it wouldn't matter. But it seemed to matter a great deal now.

"Oh Ted, what will we do?" I asked, beginning to raise myself into a small panic, "I haven't got a clue how to – "

"Don't worry yourself," he said, sensing my distress, "I'm sure we'll be able to think of something sensible."

I sighed, allowing myself to ease back into the bed. "You know." I said slowly, not looking at him, "If you really want, I'm fine naming her after Jackie… Riley, you know."

He looked at me with a very curious expression, "Andromeda, I don't know why you would ever…"

"I just thought – " I began in defense, recalling how he had skirted the idea when I tried to bring it up before.

Ted, however, shook his head firmly, "No." He said, "That was the past. This baby is ours – yours and mine. Let's not forget it."

I allowed my head to fall back with slight guilt. Even after having given birth, I was not ready to accept ownership of this child who should never have been mine.

"I never imagined…" I muttered, mostly to myself.

"Sorry?" He asked, leaning a little closer to me in to hear properly.

"Oh, nothing." I said, "It's just that I never really thought I'd be here. My family…"

"Don't think about them," he advise me.

I attempted to heed his instructions, but it wasn't as simple as that. "I always thought that naming a child would be the easiest thing in the world, you know?" I reflected, "My family… they always named their children after mythology – like the constellations and all."

"Well, we could do something like that if it helps," he offered mildly.

I looked over at him. "Do you really think that is a good idea?" I asked. Hadn't he just told me not to think about my family?

"I don't know," he said honestly. "Maybe it isn't… but if it makes this any easier for you, then why not?"

He was such a dear… It seemed like he was always thinking of what would be best, what would help me. I stared up at the ceiling, "Oh, it's hopeless!" I moaned, "I wouldn't have the slightest idea where to start."

"Nonsense," he said, "What about your name?"

I shrugged noncommittally, "I already told you all that I know."

"Well, who else was in the story?" he encouraged.

"No one, really," I said, "Just the bloke who saved her and the couple of gods that took up a row with her… and the monster of course."

"Now now, we aren't going to name our daughter after a monster." Our daughter… it still sounded so wrong. "Was there anyone else?" he asked, "Any other women?"

I wracked my mind. "No, I don't think so…. Just her arrogant mother – I don't think that would do."

He shook his head, "You're right, it probably wouldn't fit. What did the mother do again?"

"Oh, who knows," I said, waving my hands elaborately, "She was some Queen who thought that she was the heavens' gift to humanity."

"Ah yes," Ted said, "Went about gloating that she was more beautiful than the gods."

"Nymphs, actually," I corrected. "Sea nymphs… It is all really quite silly when you think about it."

I sat there reflecting, occupying the same mental space as my husband, when the door flew open and a bustling young healer came in.

Ted jumped up at once, "What is it – is something wrong?"

"Oh, no," the girl said quickly, "Not wrong, per se. Just…" she was a young thing, probably rather new to the job, and I would have pitied her if my concern wasn't growing to match Ted's. "Well," she stumbled, "perhaps you had best come with me…"

"What is it?" I asked anxiously, sitting up and trying to peer out of the door, searching for a clue.

"Don't worry, Andromeda," Ted said with a reassuring kiss on my forehead, already heading out the door with the healer, "Just stay here and rest. I'll see to this."

"Right, just stay here," I muttered, disgruntled, "Easy for you to say…"

I thumped my head repeatedly against the pillows upon which it was propped, the dull thud on thick material my only source of entertainment. I did not have much else think about as I waited until they saw fit to clue me in.

After a time the door opened once again, and Ted was the first one back in.

"Andromeda, you have to see this!" he exclaimed, his face lit up.

"What is it?" I asked, peering around him. All I could see was another healer holding the child. "Is anything the matter?"

"Oh no, on the contrary. The most extraordinary thing…" he mused. Catching sight of my befuddled face, he quickly went on, "I got the healer to let you see the child again – this is simply too wild!"

"What is going on?" I demanded. I was too tired for this.

"Er… Right." He said. "Go on and let her hold the girl."

The healer complied, stepping forward and resting the baby in my uncomfortably open arms. I shifted awkwardly in place, not yet entirely comfortable to be holding something so precious and unprotected.

"Tell me, Andromeda," Ted said, an unreadable gleam in his eyes, "What do you see?"

"What do you mean – I see the baby, our daughter," I said, uncertain if I had missed something or if he was more off his rocker than me.

"Well, yes of course," he said quickly, "But look at her – tell me what she looks like."

I looked down at the child in my arms, still feeling left out of some kind of fabulous secret, "A little wrinkled, a little red…" I said, trying to see past the evidence of the recent birthing which still stood out in my mind, "A tuft of brown hair, deep blue eyes… Ted, what am I supposed to be seeing?"

As I looked up at him for some kind of assurance, Ted motioned for me to be quiet. The healer, smiling in the same way as him said, "Exactly. Two hours ago when I recorded her vitals, your child was definitely sprouting blonde hair and hazel eyes."

I stared up at the woman in confusion. "So, what?" I asked, "Are you saying there's been a mix-up or something?"

"Oh no," the healer said quickly, "Those things don't happen here. What I'm saying is that you're little girl is special."

"Special?" I repeated, in considerable unease, an uncountable number of possible diseases suddenly streaming through my mind. "Ted, what is she talking about?" I demanded. Ted wouldn't lie to me.

"The baby," Ted said in excitement, "Can change… It's amazing! She's a, a…"

"A metamorphmagus," the healer assisted. "I've never had contact with one in my personal experience – they are astonishingly rare."

I stared intently down at the child in my arms. Was it just me, or had the eyes changed to a much darker blue, perhaps even violet color? Looking back up, I sought, "How? I mean, there isn't anything wrong, is there…?"

"No, not at all," the healer assured me, "It is a harmless condition, and is widely seen as a bit of a benefit to the wizard – or which, mind you, in question."

"But how did this happen?" I wanted to know.

"Well, these things can't always been predicted." The healer responded evasively, "Sometimes it can run in a family, but so far as your husband has been able to tell me, nothing like this exists in either of your blood lines." I shook my head. If this had ever happened in my family I would have heard of it, and I was sure that there was nothing like this in Ted's muggle blood.

"Of course," the healer continued, "Studies have suggested that such things may become established in a line through the abuse of certain substances. But I wouldn't venture to assume anything of the kind in your case, ma'am."

No, you wouldn't, I thought begrudgingly. But, at the same time, my mind drifted back to the polyjuice potion that I had taken throughout the night of the child's conception, and felt my stomach give a guilty lurch.

"Oi!" I was broken out of my thoughts by this brash exclamation from my husband, and looked up just in time to see the source of the outcry. The girl's hair had suddenly lengthened two, three, four inches, nearly spontaneously.

"Did you see that?" Ted cried, his eyes wide.

I could hardly respond, but looked down at the child in mere shock. "My, my…" I mused, "You really are a little nymph, aren't you?"

I was almost certain that I could see a subtly knowing twinkle in those now pale eyes.


	28. My Motherhood

**Chapter Twenty-Eight: My Motherhood**

* * *

I was tired. More tired than I could recall being in ages.

I had been living a life of relative solitude for the last several long months, left mainly to the devices of my own imagination and my tormented mind, interrupted only by the occasional pains of pregnancy.

Now, however, I was thrust into a very different kind of existence. From the moment that we brought that baby home, so ironically named Nymphadora, I was kept constantly on my feet.

The baby seemed to demand constant attendance, I was only just learning the value of rest to the human spirit, and, on top of it all, there seemed to be at least twice the usual amount of work to be done around the house. All of the sudden I found myself weighed down with work in the kitchen, cleaning things I didn't know were dirty, making sure everything was safe, and, Merlin forbid, doing laundry. Yes, and all at the same time as trying to take care of an infant.

I could not say which of these tasks I was l was less equipped for. Every day I seemed to be seeing more and more clearly that I was never meant to be a housewife. But I did my very best for the baby's sake, for Ted's sake, and even for my own sake.

I would never have been able to predict just how much of a nuisance this child would be to me. As hard as I tried, nothing that I managed to do seemed to be just right. The baby was the most capricious creature that I had ever had the misfortune to know. I've heard tell that mothering a child isn't as bad as it is worked up to be, and the pains of raising an infant can even be pleasurable. All that I can say to that is I would like very much to hunt down and lay a hex on whoever started that lie.

Most of the time I didn't even know what it was I was doing wrong, and I came to suspect that it was all the fault of the baby. I was exceptionally attentive, always rushing to the child every time that she cried, picking her up and comforting her until she was highly amused by the extent of the attention I gave her. When I was quite certain of her contentment, I would lay her back down to sleep or amuse herself, but the moment that I left the room she would start her wailing again – it was as if the little demon had a scheme of her own to keep me from getting a mite of work done.

Despite my frustrations at the child's impetuous manner, I could hardly help but grow fond of the girl. I would never have suspected myself as one to foster motherly adoration of a child, but in time I could hardly help myself. At times I felt that I truly hated the little wretch but, more frequently, I couldn't help but adore her. I almost think that her impish manner helped me – I may well have been sickened if she was nothing but a sweet, docile little thing.

I actually came to believe that she was really doing me good. Of course, I was exhausted day in and day out and constantly feeling at the end of my sanity, but I was no longer alone. It really worked wonders for me to have somebody else in my life, somebody I could trust to be always there and never judge me. For months, even years, I had lived by and for myself, but now I had someone else to live for.

I talked to the child frequently, a strange choice considering I had never before made much of a habit of speaking to things that didn't speak back, and yet I suddenly found myself hardly able to help myself.

"You know," I said one morning, once Ted had left for work, "You could try letting one of us sleep for at least a good five minutes, don't you think?"

She gurgled, not looking at me.

"Well, fine," I said. "So long as you think about it."

It would be one thing if we both weren't getting sleep, but as it was she would keep us all up all night and then, once I was up for good, she would peacefully make up for her lost hours while I stumbled groggily through the day.

"If you keep this up, we'll all be in a lot of trouble," I warned her. "Why, it's a wonder that your father puts up with either of us as it is. Another couple nights of this and that may be it for us – he'll kick us right out into the street!"

I made an elaborate gesture that seemed to capture her interest for a moment, but I gave up quickly.

Truth be told, I had no such fears. Ted, despite all that he was put through, was as unwaveringly patient and kind as ever. I knew that he would never consider such a thing as kicking us out, even jokingly to help ease my guilt. Even I had put to rest my own thoughts of leaving.

"You know…" I said, still reflecting to myself. "You're lucky to even be here," I informed the child. "By a very near shave of fate you may have ended up living somewhere very different… Your father wouldn't be here, and you'd be surrounded by all of the scary goons that are my family. Scary thought, right?"

The baby made no reaction.

"No worries, babe," I said, "I wouldn't want you to relive my childhood. Nope, you're safe from the Tragically Noble and Sophisticatedly Ancient House of Black. Instead, you greet the treat of living in this messy joint with an infuriatingly good muggle of a father and psycho of a mother. Doesn't that sound fun?"

I laughed, and she began to lull off to sleep.

"If you're lucky, you'll be able to sleep through it," I cooed, rocking the baby back and forth affectionately.

Ah, asleep… She looked so peaceful and sweet when she was asleep.

Of course, I knew that rarely lasted for long at all.

Seemingly moments later, I was rushing back to the cradle's side to pick up the crying baby once more.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming…" I said as I arrived, pulling the hair out of my face as I lifted the wailing child. "For all that you know I could have been in the middle of something very important that you interrupted! Okay, okay, you're right, I wasn't doing anything that worthwhile. But you know, sometimes there may actually be things more important than you."

The baby gave a little hiccup of a cough that I could've sworn was her laughing at me, and I gave up on my lot, resorting to simply rocking the child.

"I sure hope that this doesn't mean that I'm going to end up spoiling you," I muttered, thinking briefly of Narcissa. "No, I don't have enough dedication to spoil a child. Then again, I'm not totally sure I have the sanity to raise a child."

I thought for a moment of my life now – the endless crying, the sleepless nights, the messes, the feedings… it was almost too much for my tired mind to handle. Then again, I would probably choose it a thousand times before returning to my old life, or even any number of my old lives.

I tried to reason with myself that these thoughts were entirely normal and that every mother went through this, to some degree or another. At the same time, however, I couldn't bring myself to believe that any other mother had ever been quite like me.

After all, my baby was so different from any other child. Nymphadora's "condition" constantly affected our daily lives in countless ways.

I almost wondered if I was crazy to believe that my daughter's changes influenced her in any way, because they always made her seem considerably more active. This may have merely been a natural conclusion – when a baby's hair or eyes regularly change from brown to a vibrant shade of green or lilac, everything tends to be a little more exciting.

But at the same time I couldn't help feeling that she knew things. Sometimes the way she cocked her head, the way she looked at me, even the burning of her periodically vibrant eyes made me sure that she was in on something and I sometimes doubted just how much I should be saying in front of her. Of course, these were the times when I decided I needed to get more sleep.

Of course, more sleep was never to be found, and as much as I struggled there always seemed to be more to do.

At times it the entire thing became downright overwhelming and there was little that I could do to contain my emotions. There were days when I was eternally grateful that I was alone in the house, that Ted couldn't see me collapsing under the weight of my situation, periodically driven literally to tears.

And yet, just like the baby, Ted himself seemed to know things he shouldn't, and as much as I tried to hide from him, he always seemed able to know how I was really feeling.

In all honestly this unnerved me, and I did my best to ignore him – I wasn't exactly big on openness. But as much as I tried to disregard his overly acute sense of my well being, there were some things I could not overlook.

He would do things for me – little things that I may not notice at first. There were times when I discovered Nymphadora to be agreeably distracted with the presence of a toy I couldn't remember getting her, and days when I woke to an orderly (as possible) kitchen when I was been sure it had been left in filth the night before. In time I realized that it must be Ted doing these things, though I could hardly imagine how. There were even times when I awoke startled to realize that I had achieved almost a full night's rest and my poor husband slept through the rest of the morning and early afternoon, almost certainly having sat through the night up to keep the baby from waking me.

Neither of us directly acknowledged these things. I somehow didn't feel right receiving these favors from him, but I really was deeply grateful. But really, I couldn't fathom what brought him to do it…

Then, of course, his unforgettable words echoed in my mind.

"I do it because I love you."

Thinking of this upset me most of all, and I struggled to quickly distract myself, thankful to be alone.

It frightened me to be loved.

I had felt alone for so long that I honestly feared that I no longer knew how to love back.


	29. My Obsession

**Chapter Thirty: My Obsession**

* * *

I fell asleep in my husband's arms that night, and words could not express how mortified I was to have betrayed myself.

Suddenly, instead of constantly thinking about everything that was wrong in my life, I found myself disturbingly feeling that things were actually starting to be right. Strangest of all, I was beginning to detect the unmistakable feeling of something that I had never expected find – a sense of family.

I loved my daughter and appreciated my husband, but to think of ourselves as a family still felt wrong, and I feared that my feelings were tricking me in some way.

And yet we were more of a family than I had ever known. And, as twisted as it all was, there was more love in our family than I'd ever expected. At the very least Tonks loved me and I loved Nymphadora. Even if the love didn't flow all directions, we got on through the necessary combination of tolerance and gratitude.

But the more I thought about my current family, the more I couldn't help but let my mind drift to memories of the family I had lost.

There was no doubt that however perversely twisted this family was, it was nothing compared to what I had been raised in. Try as I might, I could not hold back the flood of bitter memories of my youth. I knew that it would bring me no joy to look back, but once I began I could not let go.

It became some sort of obsession, and I found myself daily reliving the memories of my childhood in my mind. Of course, it hadn't all been bad. How could it be? I was only a little girl, and the things that would have seemed most devastating to an outsider had been the staples of stability to my girlhood self.

Now, years removed, I saw the disturbing truths that I had never thought to question as a child. Of course I could only remember bits and pieces, but I now understood that my mother had never cared so much for me as I did for Nymphadora. And I was positive that my father would never have treated his wife half as well as Tonks acted towards me.

I tried to accept the justification that I was finally better off, but the aching within me would not go away. As much as I told myself that things were better here, that I was happier, I could never entirely believe it. And as much as painful as it was to think of my childhood and my family, I couldn't help but long for them.

The more I thought about it the more I convinced myself that there must be something there worth missing. I wanted so badly to have it back, that sense of my true family, whatever it was. Part of me knew that I was tricking myself, that there had never been a true sense of family, and that I was longing for something that had never existed.

But my obsession could not be killed.

I could not help but think that who I was, who I really was, was rooted in the past, not this mockery of a domestic life I was hiding in.

Perhaps that was it, my identity. Perhaps all I had ever been was who I was then, who they made me.

I was not a good person. I was not Ted Tonk's little wife, the doting mother of his bastard child. This whole game that I had been playing about building a happy little dysfunctional family was a laughable delusion.

It all came back to who I was. I had been raised a Black and could only ever be a Black. My sister said that they had forgotten me, that I was unwanted, disgraced. But that could not change the fact that I was still one of them.. Of course, it was all I would ever be.

Once again, I felt I was drowning, weighed down by the confines and lies of my life. This home, this loving, sweet home… it was all a trap. I had started to feel almost comfortable here, believing that I belonged here. But this wasn't my home. However my feelings had lied to me, I knew where I really belonged.

Once again the old fantasies came back to me, of running away, leaving this place and abandoning my nightmare forever.

But for the first time, despite how much I wanted to run, I had something greater I didn't want to ruin. Now I had Nymphadora to think about, and whether I left with or without her I would hurt her. I couldn't do that, not now that I was finally beginning to heal from the hurt I had caused Ted.

I fought the thoughts that told me I belonged with my family by repeating the truth I almost believed: I belonged with my daughter. I belonged with Nymphadora. I truly did, and in a way that I had never belonged anywhere before.

But weeks of obsession wouldn't leave my mind at peace that easily. The thoughts of my family continued to haunt me even when I tried to suppress them most, even visiting me in the night and haunting my dreams.

I couldn't fight it any longer. Something had to me done.

I may have resolved not to run this time, but I could not deny my yearning to see my family one last time.

This, of course, was completely out of the question. My sister had been more than clear when I last saw her: they wanted nothing to do with me. All because of this man I had never meant to marry.

No, there was no way that my family would have me. They had never been to fond of me to begin with, and certainly not enough to take me back after this, which I knew they'd see as the ultimate betrayal, a black spot on their noble family history.

My thoughts drifted to my sisters, once so precious. Perhaps they could still think of me as the girl they grew up with and not the traitor they had been told I became?

I thought of Narcissa. I deeply longed to see her, to know what had become of the pretty young child. But it struck me as too risky. I feared I had never been close enough to my little sister to know I could really trust her, and what was more, she had always been the type to take what she was told without question. Surely she had adopted the same outlook towards me as the rest of the family.

And so I turned my thoughts to the worst prospect of all: Bellatrix.

With Bella there was no mystery. I knew exactly what she thought of me and exactly what kind of work she was devoting herself to. But my sister meant more to me than all that. After all, everything had always started with Bella. She was the one whose footsteps I had foolishly wanted to follow, whose example and ideals had governed the person I had become.

I hated her.

But even as I thought the word I knew they were not true. I should hate her, I knew that. After everything she had done to me I should hate her more than anything. If I was looking for fault, she was the one to blame for the reason I was how I was. But I simply could not blame Bella. Something of my childish admiration still lingered, her hold over my imagination stronger than ever. It had always been all about Bella, and once the thought was in my head I couldn't not go to her.

And so, once again, I allowed my sister to influence another of the worst decisions I have ever made.

It took me weeks to trace down her location and build up the courage, but never did my determination falter. When at last I stood in front of the house my search had led me to I knew beyond a doubt that I was in the right place. So different from the grand home in which we had grown up together, it still undoubtedly carried her stench. It was a ruddy flat, barely more than a shack, and it looked like it might fall apart at any moment. I could hardly imagine that my Bella, always so in love with the grand and powerful, could conceivably life in such derelict conditions. It occurred to me that she would hardly be using her house for entertaining houseguests, but I tried to ignore the sickening feeling inside me that wondered what she did use it for.

Feeling more and more certain that this entire visit had been a mistake, and yet unable to turn away, I raised my hand and rapped curtly at the door. There was no going back now.

I felt so tense that I hardly realized that I was holding my breath. The moments passed and just as I was about to let out a sigh of relief, feeling that the danger was past, the door creaked open.

However, it was not my sister who faced me now, but a man: large, burly, and dirty.

"I, uh…" I said uneasily. "I was looking for Bellatrix Black? But, uh… I guess I'll just be going."

I shifted awkwardly, prepared to leave, when the man asked, "What do you wat with Bell?"

So she was here. Far from being comforted in the matter, my heart seemed to plummet inside of me, suddenly heavy as stone. I should just leave now. Forget the whole thing. Say it was a mistake.

"I… I'm her sister."

At this, the man let out a harsh laugh. "Funny. So happens I know Bell's sister, and you aren't her by a long shot."

"Wait, No – " I struggled. "Not Narcissa. I'm her other sister, Andromeda."

The man stared at me, the humor gone from his face. He stared long and hard, and I braced myself for the door to slam in my face. The stare droned on, however, and at long last he finally moved, turning away and leaving me alone on the doorstep as he called into the bowels of the darkened house, "Bell – Someone to see you!"

Moments later my sister came into view as she hastened from a back room, pulling something from her hair. "What is it?" she asked impatiently.

"This woman," the man said, eying me suspiciously, "Claims to be your sister."

The man seemed to disappear and the rest of the room melt away into darkness as Bellatrix stared passed him at me. For a brief moment recognition registered on her face, and then was replaced by something much darker. I shivered involuntarily – nobody had ever looked at me like that before.

"Leave us," she said coldly to the man, who stood there stupidly. "Out!"

The man clearly didn't need telling a third time, and a moment later the pair of us were alone.

The room was dimly lit and the tension was so thick that I felt I could barely breathe. As I stood there, trying to avoid my sister's gaze I could've sworn I could hear my heart pounding throughout my body, and was certain that it would give way under the pressure.

In time Bellatrix finally moved, slowly beginning to circle the room. Coming full circle, she conjured up a chair and sat down facing me, still largely concealed in the dim light.

"So," she said in mock civility, "I see you've met my husband."

"Your husband?" I almost gagged. "You married that oaf?"

"We have… common interests." Bella spoke softly and I had to sop myself from imagining the kinds of interests that a pair like that could have in common.

I didn't dare say another word on the subjects at risk of inciting her, but the very idea disgusted me. Bellatrix, married… Now, there are some lines that should never be crossed.

I changed the topic abruptly, "How's Narcissa?"

"Narcissa is doing very well for herself," Bella carried on in the same mock civility. "Got herself married into a very nice family. Very wealthy… And of course, not a trace of muggle flith to be heard of." As she spoke her mocking tone gave way to purely putrid revulsion and she twisted the words like knives digging into my flesh.

I knew what she was trying to do, and I did not want to fall into her trap. She wanted me to defend my husband so that she could what I disgrace I was.

I held my tongue, but Bellatrix clearly was not going to let this opportunity to taunt me pass her by. "So how is dear Ted?" she asked in a more sadistic tone than ever before.

I held firm in my resolve to say nothing, but I could hardly ignore the chill running down my spine.

Of course there was no escaping her. Whatever I said, even if it was nothing at all, I was playing right into her hands.

In an effort to save myself, I changed the subject abruptly, trying to mimic the cruel sharpness of her words. "And what about you?" I demanded. "What are you up to these days? Doubtlessly found yourself some other poor blind fools to follow in your ridiculous schemes?"

"On the contrary," she whispered, "I've found somebody to follow."

At this I laughed. Bellatrix had always been too in love with her own power to let anyone else hold superiority over her. But she wouldn't lie about something like this.

"You don't mean…" I whispered back in fear.

"Yes," she said harshly, stepping into the pale light for the first time, "We all have something greater to fight for now."

She thrust out her left arm, now hideously marred by something that forced me to snap my head away in a mix of revulsion and fear.

"What's the matter, little sister?" she jeered, stepping towards me as I skirted away. "That's right – you know your place now, don't you?"

I had to force myself to hold in a terrified gasp. I had been in denial for so long, but now I could hardly hide from what was going on in the world and, apparently, my sister's role in it. "Bella, how could you…" I said, fearing with all of my soul what this meant for her.

I raised my teary eyes to meet hers, hesitating only a moment on the odious mark on her forearm.

But what I saw there frightened me most of all, as I took in the full state of my sister's appearance for the first time.

It was not the state of her clothes or the dirt in her hair or the filth in her teeth that disgusted me. It was not her jagged-ended fingers caressing her twisted wand with a contorted eagerness. It was the look in her eyes.

That monster that I had always suspected lurked behind those admired eyes hid no longer. No, it had taken over entirely, and from her eyes it leaked forth to control her face, her body, her entire being…

I knew well without having to be told that this woman before was no longer my sister. As much as I had loved Bellatrix I had always known that she was not quite properly adjusted. But this was something else entirely… She had been consumed by darkness, both in body and soul. I had known before that she was fascinated in the Dark Arts, but now I saw that they were what she lived for.

I could hardly contain the sobs that fought to break through. "Bella…" I cried, "Dear Bella… What have you become?"

"What have I become?" she hissed scathingly. "Of the pair of us we both know who has fallen from grace. Don't think anyone's forgotten who you – "

"Don't you dare ring my husband into this," I thundered angrily, surprising myself with my vehemence. "He has nothing to do with what you've become!"

"He has everything to do with what I've become – what I am!" she responded fiercely. "Filth like him are the reason there needs to be people like me – to purge our race of such stains!"

"Purge?" I whispered fearfully. I knew that my sister had always bought into the pureblood mania that our parents had fed us, we all had. But this was something else entirely.

I was distracted, however, as, something glinting behind her caught my eye. Distressed, I stared past her, hoping my eyes deceived me.

Following my gaze, a callous grin spread over my lips, "Ah, spotted my little collection, have we?"

"Collection?" I repeated in unmasked disgust.

"Of course," She strolled haughtily to a rickety table that leaned against the far wall, covered by an assortment of disconcertingly dissimilar tokens; a pouch, a stuffed bear, a snapped wand, a cracked goblet. "I like to keep little reminders of those I've… eradicated. Wouldn't want my hard work to go forgotten with the poor blighters, right sis?"

I ignored her nauseatingly toothy grin and instead, shuddering, reached for a cheap sapphire necklace.

"Ah yes, one of my more recent editions," my sister mused chillingly, adopting an artificially civil tone as she lorded this last cruel triumph over me. "Pretty young thing… What was her name? Briggs. Brighton… Bra…"

"It was Brown," I snarled at her, "Adriana Brown"

"Ah that's right…" Bellatrix giggled. "Quite a silly girl. Pretty, though." I could feel my blood boiling against my sister, but I knew that to make a move against her could be a deadly mistake. "Rather ignorant, though…" she went on, "Filled with all sorts of foolish ideas… Very dangerous."

"You didn't…" I said, still not lifting my eyes from the necklace. "She's not… dead?"

"No, Andromeda, I turned her into a newt," she snapped sardonically.

My blood chilled in my veins. Adriana, dead… And somehow I couldn't shake the feeling that it was all my fault.

Striding away, Bellatrix said over her shoulder, "You know, you really shouldn't be so surprised. A silly girl like her only had it coming… I would warn you to stay away from ridiculous ideas and blood filth, but apparently it's a bit late for that one," she laughed coldly, adding in a dark undertone, "Though I wouldn't advise getting too attached to that husband of yours."

"Is that a threat?" I stammered. Something in my heart knew that, if Bellatrix truly set herself against us, there would be no going back.

"No threats," she smiled leeringly at me.

"But Adriana…" I protested

"Adriana had silly ideas. Adriana would have gotten in the way. Adriana has been removed." Her eyes lit with fire as she watched me react to her biting words, "For now, that's all we can do… remove those who really make a problem for us. But I assure you, little sister, the day will come when we will be free to fully rid this world of all that is wretched and filthy – and take my word for it. Mudbloods and blood traitors will be the first to go. I wouldn't book too much on their children, either…

"So tell me sister, how is that charming husband of yours?"


	30. My Fear

**Chapter Thirty-One: My Fear**

* * *

After seeing my sister, I could hardly get home fast enough.

My heart was pounding a dozen times louder than it should have, but all I could hear was her sickeningly smooth voice, whispering threats into my ear.

How had I ever loved her? Admired her, even! All of my life, I had envied her so, wishing I could have what she had. Now, more than ever, I hated myself for it.

Adriana… She killed Adriana. Poor, sweet, innocent Adriana. When I had seen the girl babbling that nonsense about resistance, I should have known that nothing good could come of it. But my own sister? I would never have gone that far.

But Bellatrix had.

She had gone further than ever and, although she had left me untouched this one last time, I knew beyond a doubt that if we ever crossed paths again she would not show such restraint.

As for me, I could hardly believe what she had become. Looking back I knew that she had always had this in her. But back then, she had still been my admirable sister. Now she was something else entirely – obsessed, consumed with monstrous hatred.

I was afraid.

I was beyond afraid, I was in an absolute panic.

She wasn't just taunting for her own pleasure, she meant it this time. She would kill me. And she had enough reason to, at least from her point of view. I had left the family, married a muggle, disgraced them all. They'd probably congratulated her for ridding the family of me once and for all. And if she would jump at the opportunity to kill me, it would certainly be nothing compared to the savage joy she would get if she ever come to face with my husband and, my heart ached to think it, our child.

I knew in my heart and soul that she would have her revenge. And if she had deteriorated this much since being the dear sister I had once known, who could fathom what more she could become?

The moment I was home I rushed to my daughter's side, frenzied and terrified.

She was sleeping, so quiet, so peaceful… How stupid of me to leave her here alone, unprotect – anything could have happened! And anything could still happen, at any moment now.

I rocked my baby back and forth with such agitation that it was a miracle she didn't wake.

My mind was so occupied that I couldn't think. But I had to. I had to do something… I had to escape….

Yes, that was it – escape! We couldn't stay here where Bella could hunt us down. I would not allow my ill-fate wedding ring to become the next addition to her collection.

With hardly another thought I summoned my suitcase and began tossing things inside, anything I could reach. I hardly considered what was needed and what was extraneous. My only thoughts were of packing and getting out as quickly as possible.

I must have made such a ruckus that a moment later Tonks came rushing in, shocked and confused

"What's the matter?" he asked the moment he was in sight. "Are you alright? Is the baby okay?"

"We're fine, Tonks," I said, not taking a moment to look up from my packing. "At least for now…"

My words did nothing to relieve his alarm. "Heavens, what do you think you're doing?"

"We're leaving," I announced. "All of us – pack yourself a bag. Can you grab my things too? I'm taking care of Dora."

"Slow down, dear," He implored. "Leaving? What are you talking about?"

"Just pack your bag," I said, not looking up from my task as I thrust another suitcase into his arms.

"Now that's it," he said, tossing it aside and grabbing my arm, keeping me from my packing. "Please, tell me what's happening,"

"There's no time," I insisted, "We have to get out of here. Now. Pack and I'll explain later."

Of course, leave it to my Tonks, always inconveniently accommodating, to refuse now. "Andromeda…" he said, looking at me firmly yet unable to hide the concern in his eyes. "Tell me. What's going on?"

I looked up at him desperately. "We have to leave…" I whispered once again. "It's my sister… Bella. She's going to… we have to get out of here."

"You saw your sister?" He asked in such a cautiously conversational tone that he might as well have dropped in for tea and crumpets. "How did it go?"

"You're kidding, right?" I stared at him incredulously. "That woman is psychotic! And I don't just mean your average run of the mill sister-in-law psychotic, I mean truly bona fide tear the world around her to pieces and watch it burn psychotic!"

Tonks was clearly worried, but to my dismay it wasn't over my warnings, but seemingly my sanity that he worried himself.

My words did have an effect on him, but instead of jumping to action, he looked at me as if I was the crazy one. "Relax now, Dromeda… It's been a long day, I know."

"You let go of me!" I cried furiously, "You don't know what she'll do to us!"

"Please, dear – she's your sister! What could she do?"

I glared at him, seething. "Have you forgotten how we met? Forgotten about dear Jackie? You know what she's done. Don't doubt that she's capable of."

I could see the effect of my words as he stiffened in response. Taking a deep breath he said, "But surely she would never let anything like that happen again. Not deliberately – and to her own sister…"

I shook my head, "You don't know her. You have no idea what she's done. Who she's…" My mind drifted to Adriana, but I couldn't say what had happened aloud.

"The point is," I proceeded firmly, burying my dead friend in my mind, "It's not safe. You don't know the kind of people I come from. And she's worse than any of them."

"I don't think – " he objected.

"It doesn't matter what you think – I know!" I cried. "I know what she's capable of, what she's done. And when I saw her… Oh Ted, she's worse, so much worse." I broke off for a moment, holding back a sob, before proceeding, "We're leaving. I'm going now and taking Nymphadora. If you care about your life or your family, you'll come too."

To my dismay, however, my husband responded with equal determination. "I am not going anywhere, and neither are you."

"But Tonks…" I said, tears in my eyes, "Don't you realize what she'll…"

"I am your husband," he said faithfully. "Do you really think there's anything she can do that I won't protect you from?"

His dedication was breathtaking, but his words disturbed me more than any others. Poor, sweet Tonks… For reasons I could not understand, he really would do anything for me. But this I simply could not allow.

"What was that?" he asked in response to my unintelligible mumbling.

"No…" I repeated, more clearly. "No. I won't let you. You're not going to do this. I'm not going to let you… All of this time I've watched you suffer, and it's all because of me. Do you think I don't realize how much you ache for Jackie?"

"That has nothing to – " he protested, but I wouldn't let him get far.

"But I don't care about that." I went on, "I don't care that you only love me because you think you have to, because you can't have her. But that isn't all – it'd be madness to think you could ever forget her, or that you don't think of her when you see me, or that you aren't secretly glad that I won't come to your bed so you don't have to relive that damned night… For as long as we've been together you've been suffering, and it's all my fault."

"It's not – " he attempted.

"No!" I shrieked, shutting him up at once, my heart pounding with a growing fury that I couldn't control. "I'm not going to let you suffer for me any more – and I'm not going to let you die for me!"

At this there was silence. Tonks said nothing, but stared at me with a frightened curiosity, and I seemed to have stopped breathing. The moment was as still as the death I feared, but I knew there was more to be said. Tears silently streaming down my cheeks I repeated in a low voice, "I can't bear for you to die… I need you… I – I love you."

If I had thought the room had been still as death before, it was nothing compared to what the world became once I said those three words.

I loved him…

I had said it. Was it a truth that had been growing within me all of this time? I did not know. Was it something I had been fighting to express? Surely not…

The thought had never before seriously crossed my mind. I had resented his love and questioned why I couldn't love him in return, but I never thought this would change.

And even now, I couldn't be certain that it was even true. I had said it, yes, but did that make it real?

I stumbled slightly, as if the weight of the universe was finally too much for me. I didn't know what to do, where to turn…

And then his arms were around me.

He was holding me, embracing me, soothing me, and I wasn't fighting him. For the first time I was struggling against nothing, suppressing nothing, pretending nothing.

And then I was crying.

"It's okay," he said to me, swaying back and forth, holding me with such devotion that I couldn't tell if it was my heartbeat I felt or his. "It's okay…"

There was nothing I could do. All that was left was to cry and be held by him, be loved by him.

Loosening his embrace, he held me steadfastly by the shoulders and looked straight into my eyes, wiping a tear from my cheek, "Don't you worry. I will never let anything happen to us. Not you, not Dora… I swear to you, as long as we live nobody will touch us. Not your sister and not anybody else. It would take a lot more than all the fury they could muster to separate us. I promise."

There was no holding the tears back. There was no stopping their flow as I released everything that I had been holding in, everything that had been buried for so long, everything that I now knew to be overwhelmingly true.

"I love you…" the words seemed to echo from within me, to bounce off the walls around us, to fill us up. I didn't know what words were coming from his lips and which from mine. "I love you… I love you, I love you, I love you."

"I love you."


	31. My Happy Ending

**Chapter Thirty-Two: My Happy Ending**

* * *

I was awake long before I opened my eyes.

Still, I lay unmoving in my bed, wishing the day away. Oh, sleep – if only sleep would return to claim me!

I couldn't face the day and the realities that it held. My bones ached for movement, my mind yearned for rest, and my soul was caught between the two, unwilling to give in to either.

Of course, this fight was pointless. Sleep was no more likely to claim me in that moment than death itself.

Finally, my eyes still sealed shut in denial, I rose from the bed with a heavy sigh.

The window in my room had been left open and I could hear the wispy billowing of the sheer curtains. Opening my eyes at last, the blazing sunlight glared into my drowsy eyes. Disgruntled, I stumbled around my bed stand in search of my wand, but it seemed nowhere to be found.

Resigning myself, I crossed to the window to shut it by hand, pulling the curtains firmly shut behind me.

This new darkness did me little good. There was certainly no hope of getting back to sleep now, and the sudden black filling the room did nothing to lift my spirits.

Pulling on a silk robe I bravely ventured out of my secluded room. Making my way down the long hallway, I called out, my voice resounding off the stone walls, "Norma! Have you seen my wand?"

"Yes ma'am," the house elf called back, running around the corner to meet me, "You sent it off to the shop to be checked on. Did you need anything?"

"No, no," I waved her away, "That won't be necessary… I'll fix breakfast for myself."

The elf looked somewhat doubtful, but allowed me to please myself as I made my way downstairs to see if I couldn't find anything worth eating.

Once downstairs I vaguely regretted my assertion, as there was not much I could do in the kitchen without a want

"Ah, well…" I sighed, sitting down and contenting myself with a jar of peanut butter and a cup of juice. I hardly felt in the mood to eat much, let alone go though the labor of making anything.

Still, I sat alone in the kitchen for some time after I had drained my cup. I had little on my mind, but it was that emptiness that kept me from getting up and busying myself, from finding any greater purpose in the day.

The truth be told, there was little reason to do anything at all. Not that I was depressed, mind you. I was just not really living, and I felt so, so… I didn't know what.

Shaking myself, I forced myself up and out of the kitchen.

With nothing better to do, I idly patrolled the house, peeking into each room to see that everything was in its proper place. Of course Norma knew better than to let anything fall astray, but I made my habitual rounds nonetheless.

Some rooms I lingered in longer than others, caught up by the sights before me and stood quite still, as if listening to something the old room was trying to whisper to me.

At length I'd had enough and, itching for escape, walked the delicate garden. This place also held memories for me, and I had spent many similar mornings in its midst, planting and caring for it.

But now it as all so well kept that there was little to do but appreciate its frail beauty. Like many of my little projects, this one had also lost my affections and now received no more attention than was necessary to maintain it in its unaltered state.

Not unlike myself, I couldn't help but think.

Once again, I searched for an escape from my melancholy thoughts, and half an hour later I was headed off to London.

I ran several errands and by the end of the day I had reclaimed my wand, arranged to end some extraneous deliveries to my house, and found myself a few sickels poorer.

The city was as bustling as ever, and there was a certain relief to be back in Diagon Alley. I peered through windows in vague hopes of spotting some familiar face, but alas, only uncomprehending and uncaring strangers hurried past, too intent on their own tasks to notice me.

I was reluctant to return home alone, but it was obvious that there was nothing left for me. Even the excitement of the busy city wasn't enough to occupy me forever. Well, there was nothing else to be done, and by the looks of the sky outside most of the day was already passed and fading.

Downtrodden, I returned home where I allowed Norma to prepare me a meal, which I consumed with little enthusiasm. As she cleared my bowl away, I absentmindedly wondered when my Ted would be arriving home.

Thoughts of my husband floated in and out of my mind's eye, comforting me for brief moments only to leave me as alone as ever before.

Finally, unable to fight myself any more, I stood abruptly and summoned my cloak, leaving the house at once without an explanation. Not that anybody would ask.

I walked with resolution through the fading night. It was quite a walk and I would have been better off to simply apparate, but I chose not to. I was by no means pressed for time and I preferred the walking in the quiet night to calm my mind.

At length I arrived at a pair of tall iron gates, so cold and foreboding at first glance, these landmarks had become sympathetic companions to me.

Slipping inside, I made my way along the dimly lit path and eased past familiar monuments, the friends of time, and heard the whispers of forgotten ghosts calling to me.

At last I arrived at my lonely destination. Sliding down onto my knees, I rested a yearning hand on the arc of the tombstone.

The pair of us sat in the silence of familiar comfort. I had visited this place enough to known that it was not necessary for me to say anything; my Ted could feel me there through the simple love of my persistent heartbeat.

Sometimes I spoke to him and sometimes he spoke to me, but mostly we sat together in loving devotion, making up for the years we had missed.

Tonight, however, was not a night for silence.

Stroking the cold stone kindly, I found myself longing for him more than ever, "Oh Ted…" I whispered to the dark.

"Ted… why did you have to – " But I couldn't even bring myself to say the words..

Instead, I gathered my strength into more manageable words, "I miss you, you know. I miss you so very much. It's not right here without you."

I sat in forlorn silence, staring at the cold, soulless grave hopefully, but no response came. Hanging my head, I bit my lip, as if trying to hold something back, but my words escaped me.

"Oh, Ted!" I cried out, "Come back to me – please, please come back to me!"

I flung myself on the ground, begging the earth with all of my heart. I knew that nothing could come of it, but I couldn't bring myself to stop.

"You have to come back…" I whispered in frenzied desperation, "I've gone on without you all of this time, you can't ask me to do any more… We were never supposed to be apart... You promised. You swore to me we would never be separated. You said… I thought – so long as we had each other…"

My words drifted off into nothingness and I was left alone with the same weighted sense of betrayal, of broken promises.

"I swear," I stammered despondently, "If only you gave me the chance… I'll do it all over again! And I'll do things right. I'd keep things together. I wouldn't hurt you. No pain this time.. And… I wouldn't let you go. You promised you'd never let me go. I would do the same thing – I would be able to. Even… even if it had to be me. You didn't deserve to go – you were too good!"

In my earnestness my words had deteriorated into brackish sobs, but I could not stop. "Please… Please. I'd do anything, I swear! If only… if only you would keep your promise."

But it was no good.

The stiff gravestone simply stared back at me, as unfeeling as ever.

As much as I denied it and sobbed and begged, I knew the truth.

He was gone.

He would not be coming back.

The world would not mend itself, and my tears watering an empty grave would fix nothing.

But still, after all of these years of knowing, suppressing, and rediscovering this truth, I could still barely face it. How could I live without the one person who had ever given my life meaning?

With one last dry sob, I stood up briskly.

I stood for a brief moment, composing myself in this spot as I had done on so many occasions, and then began the simple yet exceedingly difficult task of putting one foot in front of the other.

I walked from the moonlit graveyard with composure and dignity to match of the spirits that haunted it. I was as familiar with this place as any of them could be, having frequented it so often over the spanning years. I had been up and down so many of the rows of the dead, having grieved with along with others over those who had died in the recent war.

Over the years, of course, the crowds had thinned and the grief has faded from the hearts of the living as they discovered that life went on. Then only a few stragglers remained, unable to let go. I counted myself among that number, having lost so much that my life could never return to normal.

As I walked past the rows of graves that seemed to have no end in the fading darkness, I could almost feel the presences of those who I had once known so dearly.

Amongst the dead lay not only my husband, but also my daughter, taken so young, and her husband who I had scarcely gotten to know. They had loved each other like we had all loved, but it had been so short lived and, whether they were together or not now, one truth remained: they were gone.

I could feel the grave of my daughter calling to me, but I did not answer. I did not turn, and I did not look, as I resolutely walked on. Yet there was no stopping the sting of tears in my eyes.

And of course, there were other bodies and other graveyards.

Somewhere, I knew, my once beloved Bellatrix lay fallen. Even after everything she had done, she was still among those I had truly loved and truly lost.

And now, with them all gone, I was left to tumble through life without meaning. Just as I always had.

Since the very beginning my life had been a struggle. It was not a struggle to cling to life, the fight that this lot had lost, but a struggle to find the meaning in that life which everybody else already seemed to have.

All of my life I had searched in vain for this fundamental identity, looking always in the wrong places. Now, after so many long years, I finally saw the overwhelming truth. My search had only ended when I stopped looking, and that was when I found what I always thought I needed, though it always escaped my own notice.

My identity, which I had scrambled desperately for and grabbed blindly at for all of those years, had found me. It had come, not in any of the places I had searched, but in the people I had never expected. These people whose bodies lay scattered beneath the earth.

I had loved them while they lived, but it was only when they died that I realized that they were the ones who made me who I was. They gave me that identity I had so desperately longed for. And they gave me so much more that I had never realized I needed.

But surely after all of these years knowledge like that was meaningless, to know that I had never seen any of these things until it had been too late.

Now there was nothing to do but keep walking as if nothing had changed.

And yet, for the first time ever I left that graveyard without tears clouding my vision.

At long last, I had found meaning where they had been nothing.


End file.
